#it's a fucking miracle i never got caught

[thatonegrimm]

Can you do one where there S/o get SAed and got threatened so she didn’t tell the Saja boys but they find out by the man texting the s/o to meet back or they will leak photo (separately)

Thank you for the request. 🖤 I want to acknowledge that this can be a very heavy and personal topic, and I’ll approach it with care.

This piece will primarily focus on the Saja Boys’ reactions—the emotional fallout, their protectiveness, and how they handle learning the truth. 

🌙 Saja Boys x SA!Reader Being Blackmailed

⚠️ Content Warning: Blackmail, mentions of sexual assault (implied), trauma response. Please prioritize your comfort. 🖤

-----------------------------

🧿 Jinu

You left your phone on the couch. It buzzed once. Then again.

Jinu had been reaching for the remote. He didn’t mean to look.

But then he saw your name—and the preview:

“Meet me again. Or I’ll show everyone what I have. You remember how it felt.”

He stared.

His hand slowly pulled back like it had brushed flame. But the burn spread inward. Rage coiled so tight inside him it was a miracle the phone didn’t crack in his grip.

You stepped into the room, saw his expression, and froze.

“I didn’t tell you,” you whispered. “He said—if I told anyone—”

“Is it true?” he asked. His voice was even. Barely above a whisper.

You nodded.

And his world cracked open.

He stood slowly, his entire body trembling under the weight of his fury. But it wasn’t directed at you. Never at you.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he said, voice tight. “Not the pain. Not the silence. Not the threat.”

You started crying.

He caught you before you hit the ground.

“I should’ve known,” he whispered. “I should’ve seen it.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “But I’m here now. And I swear, no one’s touching you again.”

There was no fire, no yelling.

Just a quiet, ancient promise from something far older than a man.

-----------------------------

💪 Abby 

He was helping you clean when your phone buzzed across the table.

You didn’t react fast enough.

Abby picked it up, thinking it was his—until he saw the message.

“Still pretending? Meet me or I talk.”

Your breath caught.

He didn’t look at you immediately. Just… froze.

Like something inside him cracked sideways.

“What is this?” he asked.

“I didn’t tell you,” you said. “He said he’d ruin everything. I didn’t know what to do.”

Still, he didn’t speak. Didn’t blink.

When he finally did look at you, his eyes were glassy—but dry. Contained. Barely.

“I want to destroy him,” he said softly. “I want to lift a mountain and drop it on his fucking head.”

Your hands shook. “Please don’t—”

“I won’t,” he said quickly. “Not unless you ask me to.”

He stepped closer, grounding you like gravity.

“I can’t fix what happened. But I can carry what comes next.”

He reached out and took your hand like it was something sacred.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. And you’re not going through this alone.”

And when you broke down, he held you like something strong enough to shield the sun.

-----------------------------

📚 Mystery 

It happened in a blink.

You were checking your phone, but he saw your face shift. Saw the way your whole body changed.

He glanced. Just enough to catch the message.

“Meet me. You owe me. You remember how much you begged.”

He didn’t say a word.

Just… stood there. Perfectly still. Perfectly silent.

“Mystery—” you started.

But he walked out.

You chased him, panic rising in your throat.

When you found him, he was already in the corner of the hallway—half-shadowed, half-breathing, fists twitching like the shadows under his skin were itching to leap out and rip something apart.

“I’ll kill him,” he said flatly.

You flinched. “Please don’t. Please—I need you more than I need revenge.”

He stopped. Looked at you like you’d just said the only thing that mattered.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he whispered. “I should’ve—I should’ve been there.”

“You are now.”

And that was what broke him.

He pulled you into a hug, awkward at first, then tighter. Fiercer.

And when the shadows peeled back, all that remained was him.

And the silence of someone who would never let this happen again.

-----------------------------

💋 Romance

Romance always smiled.

Even when he was annoyed or exhausted—his warmth never flickered. That was just who he was.

So when the smile vanished, it was worse than yelling.

You were mid-laugh, scrolling through your phone, when the message came.

You went stiff. Tried to hide the screen. Too slow.

He saw it.

“You’ll come back. Or everyone sees what I recorded. I know you remember.”

The silence between you was instant. Sharp.

He took your phone from your hand—gently. Carefully.

“I was going to tell you,” you murmured. “I just didn’t know how. Or what to do.”

He didn’t speak right away.

Just stepped closer, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek.

“You don’t owe him silence,” he said softly. “You don’t owe me silence either.”

You bit your lip, throat tight. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’ve flirted with a hundred people,” he whispered. “But I’ve only ever loved one.”

His voice broke. “And you think I’d let anyone hurt her again?”

You shook your head. He kissed the corner of your eye, soft as breath.

“You’re not alone anymore. He doesn’t get to keep you scared.”

And when he smiled again—finally—it was only for you.

-----------------------------

🔥 Baby

You were lying together on the couch, your body stretched across his. It was quiet. Comfortable.

Until your phone buzzed.

You flinched.

Baby sat up instantly. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

He grabbed your phone before you could stop him.

“Don’t pretend. You’ll come back. Or I’ll show them. You begged for it.”

He stared at it. At you. At it again.

And then he stood up like his body couldn’t hold still anymore.

His jaw clenched. His eyes flared.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to drag you into it,” you said, trying to stay calm. “He said if I told anyone—”

“I would’ve burned him to ash the second he touched you,” Baby snapped.

You stepped back.

And just like that—he froze.

The fire in his chest didn’t go out, but it dulled. His voice dropped.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad I wasn’t there.”

You were crying before you could stop it.

He crossed the room in two steps and wrapped you in his arms, tight and fierce and protective.

“I don’t care about anything else,” he whispered. “You. That’s it. That’s the whole world.”

He didn’t let go for a long time.

And somewhere in the stillness, the fire finally curled back to rest.

Waiting.

-----------------------------

M-List

[arolesbianism]

Finally fixating on some nugget relationships that aren't horrible for everyone I love friendship <3

[jkwrites-m]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: He’s finally home. And Y/N is ready to love him for the rest of forever.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, cursing, kissing, emotional vulnerability, light confessions, multiple smut scenes, separation, military, crying, light anxiety, explicit: praise, fingering, body worship, breast play, oral (f. receiving), slight handjob, unprotected sex (this is fiction!),

A/N: in honor of our boys coming back 🫡 (& another time ending & crying from everyone’s lovely comments), here’s a lil something since I stayed up all night to write bc what’s sleep? 🫶 (i originally planned like 3k words but i got kinda carried away 🤭)

♡ MASTERLIST

═══════

The clock ticked louder than it ever had before.

I’d vacuumed the living room twice. Rearranged the throw pillows six times. Lit two candles- one because it smelled like vanilla and safety, and the other because it was his favorite and smelled like expensive cologne and pine trees. My heart had been hammering against my ribs for the past hour, and now it had officially moved to my throat.

I was pacing.

Still in his oversized gray hoodie. Still barefoot. Still wearing the stupid socks with the tiny bunnies on them because they were his favorite and made him smile when he caught me dancing in them, and god, I just wanted him to smile again.

Eighteen months.

A year and a half of letters and FaceTime and countdowns and aching. The kind of ache that settled into your bones and made even the softest days feel sharp. And now, at last, it was over.

He was coming home.

Jeon Jungkook- my boyfriend, my best friend, my whole fucking world- was minutes away from walking through our door.

I felt like I was going to throw up. Or cry. Or both.

Probably both.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror and winced. I looked soft, nervous, flushed. Eyes too bright, mouth slightly open like I was afraid to breathe.

The couch still had the dent from the last time he sat there, all those months ago, legs spread, hair a mess, tugging me onto his lap while pretending we had five more minutes. The plants had survived, shockingly. His bunny mug was still in the cabinet, a little dusty but sacred. His dog tags were tucked in the top drawer of my nightstand, hidden like a secret I never wanted to forget.

My phone buzzed.

Jungkook: On my way up now 💜

My lungs forgot how to work.

I backed up until I was pressed against the front door, fingers curled around the hem of his hoodie, grounding myself in the scent that still lingered no matter how long it had been washed.

A minute passed.

And then, I heard it.

The sound of keys.

The soft jingle of metal against metal.

The world stopped spinning.

The doorknob turned slowly, like a movie playing in slow motion. The click of the lock releasing. A pause. A shift in the air.

And then- he was there.

He stood there for a second like he wasn’t sure if this was real.

His uniform was neat but creased from travel. The duffel bag slipped off his shoulder and thudded to the floor, forgotten. His hair was shorter than when I last saw him, neatly buzzed on the sides, grown just enough on top to let a few strands curl slightly across his forehead. His eyes- those stupid, beautiful brown eyes met mine, and they were glassy.

My mouth opened, but no words came out. I just stared, like blinking might make him disappear.

He said nothing at first. Just looked at me like I was a miracle.

And then he smiled.

That lazy, crooked, I-love-you-so-much-I-can’t-stand-it smile.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice rough and low.

I didn’t remember crossing the room. I just knew I was in his arms.

I slammed into him with enough force that he stumbled back a step, and his arms snapped around me like steel. His breath hitched. My fingers dug into his back, holding him as close as possible, trying to pull him into me.

“Shit,” he whispered against my hair. “You’re real. You’re really here.”

“You’re here,” I breathed, shaking. “You’re actually here.”

And then we kissed.

Hard. Fast. Desperate.

He tasted like spearmint gum and tears and every single day I’d waited for him. Our mouths clashed, messy and urgent, and I whimpered when he cupped my face with both hands, thumbs stroking the apples of my cheeks like I might fade if he didn’t touch every inch of me.

When we finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead to mine, his voice cracking.

“I kept dreaming about this.”

I laughed through a sob. “I kept your mug on the top shelf. It’s dusty as hell, but it’s yours.”

He laughed, breathless, hugging me tighter. “That stupid bunny one?”

“Of course.”

He looked at me like I was made of stars. “God, I missed you.”

I swallowed hard. “I missed you so bad, Jungkook. It physically hurt.”

His nose brushed mine. “Don’t cry yet. You promised not to cry.”

I wiped at my cheeks, sniffling. “You promised not to make me cry in the first five minutes.”

“And yet here we are,” he said with a grin, stepping inside fully and kicking the door closed behind him.

The moment it clicked shut, something shifted.

The weight of the past eighteen months lifted just enough for us to breathe.

He bent down, gently picking up his duffel bag with one hand and keeping the other firmly around my waist, like letting go wasn’t an option. I guided him toward the living room, heart still pounding in my ears, his presence so overwhelming it felt like light filling up every corner of a long-empty room.

═══════

We sat on the couch in the same spot we always claimed.

He let out a long sigh and leaned back, pulling me onto his lap without hesitation. I curled into him like I’d never left, straddling his thighs, arms wrapped around his neck. His hands settled on my hips, thumbs rubbing slow, calming circles.

“Still fits,” he murmured, looking down at the way I curled into him.

“What, me?” I teased.

He smirked. “You. The hoodie. The weight of you in my arms. All of it.”

I flushed, brushing my fingers across his cheek. “You look… God, I forgot how good you look up close.”

“Yeah?” he said, eyebrows raised, cocky grin pulling at his lips.

I nodded, biting my lip. “Like you’re gonna kiss me stupid again.”

He didn’t answer with words. He leaned in and did exactly that.

His lips were warm and familiar.

The kind of kiss that melted through skin and settled in the marrow.

I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t think I could stop. His mouth moved against mine like he was relearning every curve, every sigh, every tiny sound I made when he tilted his head just a little bit more. His fingers pressed against the small of my back, pulling me closer until there was nothing left between us but heat and years of pent-up wanting.

When we finally broke for air, he was smiling.

That soft, smug, gorgeous smile I hadn’t seen in person in far too long.

“You’re seriously trying to kill me,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along his bottom lip.

His eyes sparkled. “You think I flew across the country, got discharged, and came home just to not kiss you stupid?”

I snorted, burying my face in his neck. “You smell like detergent and danger.”

“Danger?” he repeated with a laugh. “Baby, I’m tame now. Government-issued. Fully trained in discipline.”

I pulled back just enough to raise a brow. “Yeah? That right?”

He nodded solemnly. “Mmhm. Highly decorated. Wildness fully contained.”

I rolled my hips just slightly in his lap- barely there, just enough to see if he’d crack.

He did.

“Fuck,” he hissed, hands tightening on my hips. “Okay- maybe not that contained.”

“That’s what I thought,” I whispered, lips brushing against the corner of his jaw.

His head tilted back, exposing his throat, and I kissed the smooth skin there, letting my teeth graze just enough to make him shiver.

“Eighteen months,” he whispered. “Do you know how many times I imagined this exact moment?”

“How many?”

“Too many to count. Always you. Always this hoodie. Always the way you look when you’re about to get what you want.”

I grinned. “What makes you think I’m about to get what I want?”

His hands slid under the hem of the hoodie, fingers grazing my bare thighs.

“Because I’m about to give you everything.”

═══════

He stood with me in his arms like I weighed nothing, one arm hooked under my legs, the other around my back. I squealed, laughing into his shoulder as he carried me down the hallway like some lovesick soldier in a romantic drama.

“I can walk, you know,” I teased.

“I’ve waited long enough,” he said, voice low. “Let me carry you for a bit.”

I bit my lip, heart stuttering.

He pushed open the bedroom door with his foot and set me down gently on the mattress. For a moment, we just looked at each other. No words. No teasing.

Just us.

His eyes roamed my face like it was holy. Like he was mapping me out again. He slid his hand up my leg slowly, reverently, pausing at the edge of the hoodie.

“Still mine?” he asked, voice rough.

“Always,” I whispered.

His mouth crashed into mine again.

But this time, it was slower. Deeper. We kissed like we had time. Like we had forever.

And as his hands started tugging fabric, and mine fumbled with the buttons of his uniform, I felt it- that tiny pulse of something perfect. Something sacred.

He kissed down the column of my neck like it was the only way he remembered how to breathe.

Slow, lingering, lips dragging along my pulse point, a warm exhale every time his mouth hovered just above skin. My fingers were in his hair before I realized it, tugging slightly, needing to anchor myself in something because I felt like I was floating.

The hoodie was still on me.

I think he liked it that way for a minute- his oversized clothing wrapped around my body, bare legs curled in the sheets beneath me, looking up at him like he hung the damn stars.

“Kook,” I whispered, fingers brushing his jaw.

He looked up, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Take it off,” I said, voice smaller than I meant it to be. “Please.”

His expression softened.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t tug or yank or act like he’d been waiting eighteen months just to get me naked- even if we both knew that was true. Instead, he knelt on the bed, hands sliding slowly up my thighs and under the hoodie, pushing the fabric up inch by inch.

I raised my arms for him.

He peeled it off gently, reverently like unwrapping something precious.

I was bare underneath. Nothing but skin and nerves.

He let out a slow, shaky breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

My skin flushed. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

His eyes drank me in like he was trying to memorize everything- the curve of my waist, the swell of my chest, the way I was already squirming under his gaze.

“You look like a dream,” he said, voice hoarse.

“And you look like mine,” I whispered back.

He leaned down, lips brushing the skin between my breasts, and I arched up into him on instinct.

Everything felt amplified. My body was hyper-aware of him. The way his fingertips skated along my hips, how he kissed across my ribs, how he made sure to linger in every spot that made me twitch or sigh or clutch the sheets.

“Still okay?” he asked, lips hovering above my belly.

“God, yes.”

“I want to go slow,” he murmured. “I don’t want to miss a single second.”

I reached for him, tugged gently on his shirt. “Then take this off and let me look at you.”

He sat up and pulled the dark green uniform shirt over his head, revealing tanned skin and inked muscle. My mouth dried instantly.

“You’ve been working out,” I said, biting my lip.

He smirked. “Had to keep busy.”

“Well, it paid off.”

I ran my hands down his chest, loving the way he shivered under my touch.

He lowered himself onto me, skin to skin now, heat meeting heat, and kissed me like he meant to make up for every night we’d lost.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered, voice barely holding together.

“I do,” I breathed. “Because I felt it too.”

His hand slipped between us, and I gasped.

The real beginning was here.

And I was ready.

═══════

His fingers moved slowly- deliberate, trembling slightly, like the gravity of touching me again after so long was still settling in.

I opened for him instinctively, breath catching as he slid two fingers along my folds, testing, teasing, learning me all over again. His forehead pressed to mine, eyes never leaving mine, watching every twitch of my mouth as I whimpered under his touch.

The air between us was thick with anticipation, heavy with the weight of eighteen months apart.

“You’re soaked,” he breathed, his voice rough and low, as if the words were torn from him against his will.

“You’re late,” I whispered, a teasing edge to my tone, though my heart was pounding in my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, even as my body arched into his touch, craving more.

He let out a strangled laugh and kissed me again, lips claiming, hand steady as he slipped one finger inside me, and I gasped so loud he groaned, his breath hot against my skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, kissing down my throat. “I forgot how tight- how perfect- ”

“Don’t you dare stop,” I breathed, nails digging into his shoulder, holding him close. I needed him, needed this, after so long apart.

He didn’t.

A second finger joined the first, slower now, deliberate, as if he were mapping every inch of me. My hips bucked up into his hand without shame, without hesitation.

I wanted all of him. Now.

My hands fumbled at his waistband, and he didn’t stop me. In fact, he shifted just enough to help, pushing the last of his clothing off, bare now, hot and flushed and hard as hell. My mouth actually dropped open.

I looked down.

“Oh.”

His smirk was wicked, playful, the same one that had always made my heart skip a beat. “Something you missed?”

I bit my lip. “So much.”

And then I was on my back again, legs wrapped around his waist, his body hovering above mine like a question- waiting for the answer we both already knew. I could feel the heat of him, the weight of him, and my answer was already written in the way my body arched toward his.

“Still sure?” he whispered, forehead pressed to mine.

“Don’t make me beg,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me.

His hips rolled forward.

We both gasped.

It was a stretch- the good kind. The perfect kind. Like being filled up with something that felt like love and breath and the sun all at once. He sank in slowly, carefully, kissing me through every inch, groaning against my mouth when he bottomed out.

We didn’t move at first.

Just stared at each other like the world had ended and we were all that was left. His eyes searched mine, full of questions and answers, of everything we hadn’t said in the months apart.

Then he started to move.

Slow. Rhythmic. Deep.

Every thrust was measured, like he wasn’t just fucking me- he was remembering me. I clung to him, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, my hands digging into his back, mouth open with moans I couldn’t control. My breath stuttered in time with his hips, and I felt every inch of him, every memory, every moment we’d missed.

“God, I missed you,” he groaned.

“I never stopped wanting you,” I cried out, my voice breaking as tears welled in my eyes.

He kissed away the tears as they came- not rushed, not frantic. Just present. Every part of him was right there. No space left between us. No apologies. Just forgiveness and softness and heat and-

My orgasm hit me like a wave.

It stole my breath and made me cry out, body tightening around him in a way that made him curse beautifully into my neck. He didn’t stop moving. He kept going- rougher now, chasing his own high as he buried his face in my chest.

“I’m close,” he panted, his voice a raw whisper. “Fuck- I’m- ”

“Cum,” I whispered. “Come home to me.”

That did it.

He spilled into me with a guttural moan, shaking, holding me so tight I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.

We stayed like that for a long time.

Sticky. Sweaty. Tired. Home.

═══════

Later, he curled into me, head resting on my chest like it was the only pillow that ever made sense. One leg hooked over mine. One arm around my waist. He held me like I was the last tether holding him to earth- like if he let go, the world would tip again.

I couldn’t stop touching him.

My fingers carded through his hair, slow and steady. It was softer than I remembered. Freshly washed, warm from sweat, the ends damp and curling from the heat between us. I pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and inhaled deeply, committing the moment to memory.

He didn’t speak. But I knew he wasn’t asleep.

His breath hitched every time I stroked behind his ear. His thumb brushed back and forth across the skin just above my hip bone, like he was counting seconds. 

He was still here. Still present. Still grounding himself.

Every so often, he’d let out a long breath, not quite a sigh, more like a release. As if with each exhale, a little more of the weight he’d carried for eighteen months finally bled out of him.

“I love you,” I whispered, not even meaning to say it aloud.

But he hummed in response, soft and quiet, like his soul already knew.

And still, I held him.

I let my fingers explore gently. Tracing the curve of his shoulder, the line of his spine, the new ridges and hardness in his body that hadn’t been there before. He’d grown stronger. Quieter. Older, somehow. But this- the way he clung to me like I was his anchor, hadn’t changed at all.

Finally, his breathing began to slow.

His grip loosened, not in fear, but in peace. His face softened, lips parting slightly as sleep took him. I kissed his temple, felt the tiny twitch of his lashes against my chest.

I waited until he was fully still. Until the apartment around us felt like a cocoon, and the air between us had settled into something sacred.

Then I leaned in close. My lips brushing the shell of his ear, breath warming his skin.

“Welcome home,” I whispered.

He didn’t answer.

But the smile that tugged at his lips in sleep was enough.

═══════

When I woke up, the room was blue.

That soft, pre-dawn blue where everything looks like a painting. The blinds were tilted just enough for the city lights to bleed through, casting long shadows across the sheets tangled around our bodies. I hadn’t moved. Neither had he.

Jungkook was still draped over me, cheek pressed to my chest, breathing slow and even. His arm was slung lazily over my waist, fingers curled into the fabric of the sheet like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go.

I could barely breathe, but not because of the weight.

Because of the peace.

I lay there, unmoving, eyes tracing the slope of his bare shoulder, the tiny freckles on his back, the edge of the tattoo that peeked out from beneath the covers. God, I missed those freckles. I missed the way he slept- completely uninhibited, one leg flung out, lips parted slightly like he’d been dreaming something soft.

He made this tiny sound when I brushed a hand down his spine. A low, sleepy murmur, almost like a cat stretching into touch. I smiled.

“I missed that noise,” I whispered, not really intending for him to hear.

But he shifted slightly, his voice thick and rough from sleep. “Missed you whispering in bed.”

My breath caught. I looked down, and sure enough, his eyes were barely open. 

His lips were pulled into a sleepy, lopsided smile.

“Good morning,” I said, brushing the hair from his forehead.

“Best one I’ve had in eighteen months.”

I felt my throat close a little. “You remember how to flirt, I see.”

“Hard to forget when you were in my dreams every damn night.”

He pushed himself up on one elbow and hovered above me, the sheet slipping slightly to reveal his chest. He leaned down and kissed my bare shoulder. Then my collarbone. Then the corner of my mouth.

“You smell the same,” he whispered.

“So do you.”

He smiled. “Must be fate.”

I laughed, pushing at his chest until he collapsed beside me with a groan, arm pulling me with him. I curled into his side, my hand resting over his heart.

“You okay?” he asked after a beat. “Really okay?”

I nodded against him. “I didn’t realize how not-okay I was until I could touch you again.”

He swallowed hard. “Same.”

We lay in silence for a moment, just listening to each other breathe. There was something sacred about the quiet. Something that didn’t need to be filled. Just held.

“I was scared,” he said quietly, voice so low I almost missed it.

My heart paused.

He was staring at the ceiling now, one arm still around me, his fingers drumming slowly against my hip. It was a nervous rhythm, soft and off-tempo. Like he was fighting the words.

“What were you scared of?” I asked, nuzzling closer, my nose brushing his jaw.

He hesitated, then turned to face me fully.

“That you’d move on,” he said. “That you’d realize you didn’t want to wait anymore. That someone else would come along and actually be there for you.”

I blinked at him.

“Jungkook.”

He looked down. “I know it’s dumb. You always reassured me. But every time I saw your face through a screen instead of in front of me, it hit me all over again. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t hold you when you cried. I couldn’t kiss you when you had a bad day. I couldn’t even send you a real fucking gift without jumping through a dozen approval hoops.”

“You sent me letters,” I whispered, voice thick.

“I wanted to send me. Not scraps of me. All of me.”

I cupped his face gently. His eyes were glassy again, lashes heavy with emotion.

“I never wanted anyone else,” I told him. “Not even for a second.”

He swallowed hard.

“I didn’t stay because I’m a good girlfriend,” I continued. “I stayed because you’re my person. You’re the one I see when I think of forever. There’s no timeline that could ever make me forget that.”

He leaned forward and kissed me- slow, deep, thankful. He kissed me like I’d just saved his life.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against my lips.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

We fell back against the pillows, foreheads touching, breath shared. The silence between us wasn’t silence anymore. It was full. Of everything we’d said. And everything we didn’t need to.

After a few minutes, I rested my chin on his chest.

“I had my own fears,” I admitted.

He looked down at me. “Yeah?”

I nodded slowly. “That when you came back, you’d be… different. That maybe the version of you I remembered wouldn’t exist anymore. That I wouldn’t know how to fit next to you again.”

He traced a finger along my back. “Did it feel like that?”

“No,” I said. “It felt like breathing again.”

He pulled me tighter against him. “Then let’s never stop.”

My heart fluttered.

He kissed my forehead and whispered, “We can stay here all day, you know. Screw the outside world. No alarms. No phone calls. Just you, me, and this bed.”

“You’re speaking my language,” I murmured.

“I’ve always been fluent in you.”

I giggled, hiding my face against his chest. “That was so cheesy.”

He grinned. “I’ve been saving that line for weeks.”

═══════

Time slowed in the haze of post-reunion softness.

I couldn’t tell how long we’d been wrapped up in each other like that. Minutes? Hours? I didn’t care. The world outside our bedroom didn’t exist. It’s just the faint hum of the fridge, the occasional car below our window, and the steady thrum of Jungkook’s heartbeat beneath my cheek.

“I missed this,” I mumbled, eyes still closed.

He stroked my back gently. “What, cuddling naked in bed while I sweat like a furnace?”

I snorted. “No. Well, yes. But also this. Just being dumb and half-asleep and saying things like ‘I missed this.’”

His chest rumbled under me with quiet laughter. “I missed you being dumb and half-asleep.”

“Charming.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

We stayed there, giggling softly, like we were trying not to wake the memory of everything we’d been through. I traced lazy shapes on his chest, spelling out nonsense, occasionally drawing a heart or writing his name with my fingertip.

He hummed. “Whatcha writing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Is it dirty?”

I grinned up at him. “What if it is?”

He leaned down, nudging my nose with his. “Then I’m obviously obligated to investigate.”

His mouth found mine again. Slow, sleepy, and deliciously unhurried. He kissed me like there was no rush. Like we had all the time in the world.

And for the first time in a long time, we did.

When we pulled apart, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You wanna know what I missed the most?”

I nodded.

He smiled. “The way you look at me when you’re not saying anything. Just… like that. Like you already know I’m yours.”

I felt my eyes sting.

“And you are,” I whispered. “You always were.”

═══════

Eventually, our stomachs growled loud enough to interrupt the moment.

He groaned. “Okay. I love you, but I also love food.”

“You can have both,” I said. “You have me and leftover ramen in the fridge.”

He lit up like a little kid. “You kept the leftovers?”

I smirked. “I keep everything.”

He reached for his boxers, but I yanked him back by the waistband and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I’m serious, though. Today’s just for us.”

“No calls. No errands. No makeup or clothes unless absolutely necessary.”

He saluted. “Roger that. I am officially yours for the day.”

“You’re mine every day.”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “Damn right I am.”

═══════

Jungkook made breakfast shirtless, and I decided I was never letting him leave the apartment again.

He wore nothing but those gray sweatpants and a sleepy grin, hair messy from bed, dog tags clinking softly as he moved around the kitchen like it was still his. Like no time had passed. Like his body didn’t just come home from the weight of eighteen months of structure and silence.

I sat on the counter in one of his old t-shirts (the black one with the tiny bleach stain near the hem) and watched him whisk eggs like it was the most mesmerizing thing in the world.

“I forgot how loud you are in the kitchen,” I teased, swinging my legs.

“I forgot how nosy you are,” he shot back with a grin, glancing over his shoulder.

I smiled, sipping my coffee. “Is it weird that this feels normal already?”

“Not weird. Perfect.”

He poured the eggs into the skillet and crossed the kitchen to stand between my legs. His hands rested on my thighs, his head dropping to my shoulder.

“I used to imagine this exact moment,” he said softly. “Waking up with you. Cooking for you. Holding you in a room that didn’t echo.”

My fingers threaded through his hair. “We’re here now.”

“I know.” His lips brushed my neck. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

═══════

We ate together at the counter. Laughing over slightly burnt toast, fighting over who got more juice, giggling when he leaned over just to kiss the corner of my mouth.

Every moment felt precious. Every touch mattered.

After breakfast, we curled up on the couch- me wrapped in a blanket, him lying between my legs, head on my chest like before. Our show played in the background, but we didn’t pay attention. We were too caught up in each other.

“I kept watching this without you,” I admitted.

He gasped dramatically. “You betrayed me.”

“I had to do something to feel close to you.”

He smiled, looking up at me. “You could’ve just written ‘Jungkook is sexy’ on all the mirrors.”

I snorted. “You assume I didn’t?”

He burst out laughing, hand sliding under the blanket to squeeze my knee. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

We stayed that way until the sunlight shifted, the afternoon creeping across the walls. And still, neither of us moved.

He sighed deeply, hand stroking my hip under the blanket. “You know the hardest part?”

I tilted my head.

“It wasn’t the schedule. Or the drills. Or the cold nights. It was sleeping without you. Going to bed and waking up without you.”

I bent down and kissed his temple. “Well, you’re never doing that again.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

═══════

Night fell slow and soft over the apartment, wrapping everything in gold. The city hummed outside the window, but inside, it was just us. Tangled limbs. Quiet breaths. Familiar touches.

We lay curled around each other in bed, the comforter kicked halfway down, skin against skin. I was spooned against his chest, his arm tucked tight around my waist, nose pressed to the back of my neck. I could feel him breathing me in.

And then his hand started moving.

Not hurried. Not rough. Just soft, slow strokes across my stomach. Fingertips tracing idle patterns, brushing under the hem of the shirt I’d borrowed from him again. 

“Kook,” I whispered, breath catching.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just nuzzled closer, pressed a warm kiss just below my ear.

“I can’t stop touching you,” he murmured, voice heavy with sleep and want. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes, warm and heavy-lidded, held a vulnerability I wasn’t used to seeing. “It’s real,” I whispered, reaching down to lace our fingers together. 

His hand was calloused, a reminder of the life he’d lived without me for the past eighteen months, but his touch was gentle, as if he feared I might shatter.

He turned me gently onto my back, body sliding over mine in one smooth, fluid motion. His weight wasn’t oppressive; it was grounding, a reminder of his presence, of us. His lips found my collarbone, and I felt the low hum in his throat as he kissed lower, slower.

My body responded instinctively, arching slightly as his mouth trailed down, his tongue leaving a wet path that made me squirm beneath him.

“Need you one more time,” he said.

My breath hitched. “You just had me.”

“I know,” he whispered, forehead resting against mine. “But I want to feel it again. All of it. You. Us. This. Before sleep takes me.”

There was no room for teasing now, no space for jokes. Just heat and heartache and something deeper than either of us could put into words.

His lips found mine, and he kissed me like it was his final prayer, like he was pouring every unspoken word, every missed moment, into that single touch.

Hands exploring like every inch of me was sacred. 

He pushed my hair back, exposing the curve of my neck, and kissed every inch of newly revealed skin as if asking permission all over again. My shirt was peeled away slowly, his lips following the fabric as it slid off my shoulders. 

I shivered as his mouth found the sensitive skin of my breasts, his tongue tracing the outline of my nipples before taking one into his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, until I gasped his name.

“Kook,” I breathed, my hands tangling in his black hair, pulling him closer.

He smiled against my skin, a cheeky grin that made my heart flutter. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his lips moving lower, his hands sliding down my body. 

He kissed my stomach, my hips, my thighs as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants. I lifted my hips, helping him slide them off, and he paused, his eyes drinking me in like I was the only thing he’d ever wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe.

I blushed, but the heat in my cheeks was nothing compared to the fire burning low in my belly. “Baby,” I whispered, urging him closer.

His lips found the junction of my thighs, his breath warm against my cunt. I gasped as his tongue pressed against me, slow and deliberate, tasting me like I was the sweetest thing he’d ever known. 

His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he explored, his tongue dipping and swirling, his mouth sucking gently, then harder, until I was moaning his name, my fingers clutching at the sheets.

“Fuuuck, Kook,” I groaned, my body arching off the bed. “Right there.”

He hummed his approval, his tongue pressing deeper, his fingers sliding between my folds, teasing the spot that made me see stars. 

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice muffled against my skin. “So fucking perfect.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through me, and I felt my walls clenching around his tongue, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. 

“Baby, please,” I begged, my body on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release.

He smiled against me, his lips curving into that cheeky grin I loved so much. “I got you baby,” he whispered, pulling back slightly, his tongue tracing lazy circles that made me whimper. “Come apart for me.”

His words were the push, and I felt my body respond, my muscles tightening, my breath hitching as he worked his magic. His tongue was relentless, his mouth devouring me, his fingers sliding inside me, stretching me, filling me, until I was a mess of moans and pleas, my body trembling on the brink.

“Kook, I- ”

He didn’t let me finish. His mouth closed over me, his tongue pressing hard against my clit, his fingers curling inside me, and I shattered. My back arched, my nails digging into his shoulders as my orgasm ripped through me, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me, leaving me breathless and boneless.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, my body still trembling as he kissed his way back up, his lips brushing against mine. “That was-“ 

“Not enough,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “But we’ll fix that.”

He shifted, his body moving over mine, his lips finding mine again, kissing me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine as he settled between my legs. I felt him, hard and thick, pressing against my thigh, and I reached down, wrapping my hand around him, stroking slowly, savoring the feel of him, the way he twitched in my grip.

“You’re so hard,” I murmured, my thumb brushing over the head, smearing the pre-cum that had leaked from him.

“All for you,” he replied, his voice a low growl. “Always.”

He kissed me again, his lips moving to my neck, my collarbone, his hands sliding down my body, teasing, touching, until I was squirming beneath him, needy and desperate for more. 

“I want you inside me,” I whispered, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He kissed me like he was claiming me, his lips fierce and hungry, his hands gripping my hips as he positioned himself at my entrance. I felt him press against me, the head of his cock teasing my folds, and I gasped as he slid inside, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine.

It felt different. More intense. Like our bodies remembered each other better than our minds ever could. There was no rush. No wild rhythm. Just slow, deep movements- hips rocking together in a perfect, quiet ache.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “You feel so good.”

I wrapped my legs tighter around him, urging him deeper, and he obliged, his hips rocking into mine, his thrusts slow and controlled, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through me. His eyes stayed locked on mine, his expression raw and open, as if he was laying his soul bare.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice a chant, a tether holding him to me. “So much.”

I kissed the corner of his mouth, the edge of his jaw, my fingers tracing the scar near his shoulder, a reminder of the life he’d lived before me. 

“I’m yours,” I told him. “Always.”

His thrusts grew deeper, his hips moving in a rhythm that matched my own, our bodies moving as one, our breaths syncing, our hearts beating in time. 

The air was thick with the sound of our skin slapping together, our moans filling the room, our pleasure building, inexorable and undeniable.

“Kook,” I gasped, my body tightening around him, my walls clenching as I felt the familiar coil of pleasure building low in my belly. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “Cum with me, baby. Let go.”

My body shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me, my cries echoing in the room as he followed, his own release spilling into me, his name on my lips as we came apart together, our bodies trembling, our breaths ragged, our hearts pounding.

He collapsed beside me, chest rising fast, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead. I turned into him, pulling the blanket up over us. His hand found mine beneath it.

“I could stay here forever,” he mumbled, lips brushing my temple.

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I’d let you.”

And then, slowly, his body began to relax. His breathing slowed. His grip on my hand loosened just slightly as his eyes fluttered shut.

I looked at him. He’s so beautiful and unguarded in sleep.

My heart ached with how much I loved him.

I leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

“No more waiting, baby. No more distance. You’re home… you always were.”

═══════

♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/10/2025

[skywalkerslvt]

Rough Ride (so rough)

❥Pairing: RE2!Leon x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: What happens when you have to sit on Leon's lap for a very long and bumpy car ride? Leon's pants get soaked 😍

❥CW: 18+, smut, sub!leon, dry humping, cumming in pants, overstimulation, crying kink, semi-public sex, sorta non-con at first? but both parties are consenting, 1.6k words

❥a/n: can you guys tell how much I like dry humping from the amount of times it shows up in all my fics? anyways RE2 Leon is so subby i need to make him cry so I wrote this. Also my requests are open if any of u leon sluts wanna request something 👀 Hope you guys enjoy! <3 pics are from pinterest

Leon Kennedy was utterly fucked. Both literally and figuratively. He was approximately one hour into the grand camping trip that your shared group of friends had planned, and it was already off to a bumpy start.

It started with the excessive amount of luggage you and Claire had decided to pack. The trunk was bursting at the seams, and the backseat was already crammed with more than it could reasonably hold, leaving the driver seat, the passenger seat, and a single seat in the back free for its intended use.

With Chris driving and Claire staking her claim on the passenger seat, that left you and Leon with the single seat to share.

And when you whispered a seductive “I guess we’ll have to make do,” with a mischievous glint in your eye, Leon knew he was done for.

Before he could respond, he was shoved into the car, barely even registering that you were manoeuvring yourself into his lap, carefully trying to find a comfortable position.

At first, Leon was awkward. It wasn’t every day that the girl he had a massive crush on was situated on his lap, and especially not for a 2 hour long drive like this one. But as you leaned against him and whispered a soft “Relax,” he eventually settled in, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder.

The first hour was fine, enjoyable even. Leon had managed to stave off a massive boner, and everyone had been happy despite the luggage situation. But issues started to arise as Chris turned the car onto a bumpy gravel path in the woods.

“We’re gonna be on this trail for about an hour and then we'll be at our camping spot. It might get a bit bumpy,” Chris muttered quietly, not wanting to wake up his sister who had dozed off against the window.

As the car drove deeper into the forest, the road became more uneven, causing you to bounce slightly in Leon’s lap. His cock started to twitch, the boner he managed to avoid coming to as all his attention was focused on that single point where your ass was softly bouncing on his cock.

Leon was flushed head to toe, his teeth worrying his lower lip as the rate of his breathing increased. His cock was now fully hard and leaking pre-cum in his boxers, and by some miracle, you hadn't noticed. Needing to feel more friction, he pushed his hips up slightly, softly grinding his hard dick against your ass, playing it off as shifting to a more comfortable position. He felt like such a pervert, getting off against your ass while you were completely oblivious, but the weight of you on top of him felt too good to stop.

He had managed not to make a sound, harshly biting down against his surely bruised lip any time he felt like moaning, but when Chris hit a particularly hard bump, causing you to bounce harshly back into his cock, he let out a barely audible whimper, right against your neck.

Leon stiffened, panicking as he was sure he got caught. You were going to realize what he had been doing, and you'd think he was a disgusting pervert, never wanting to see him again.

But as you turned your head slightly, concern etched on your features, and asked him if he was okay, Leon went lax with relief. You didn’t know.

“Y-yeah- Sorry I was just startled by the bump,” he stammered out.

You smiled softly, seemingly unaware of the turmoil raging inside him. “It's okay. These roads are pretty rough. Just hold onto me if you need to, okay?”

Leon swallowed hard, nodding. “Sure, thanks.” You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, then turned back around and shifted your hips, moving in a more comfortable position. Leon’s hold around your waist tightened and his dick twitched at the feeling of you moving against him.

The car continued to jostle along the uneven path, each bump sending another wave of sensation through Leon’s body. He tried to focus on anything else–the trees whipping past outside, the sound of Chris humming along to the radio, the soft snores of Claire asleep in the front–but his mind kept coming back to the warmth and pressure of you against his twitching cock.

Desperate to maintain some semblance of control, Leon shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would ease his arousal. It was useless. Every movement, every slight adjustment only heightened the friction, the pressing of your body against him his own personal torture.

Minutes felt like hours as the car bumped along the trail, each jolt a reminder of the situation Leon found himself in. To make matters worse, you began shifting, unknowingly pushing your ass against his cock continuously, and Leon couldn't help himself. He just had to cum, so he began grinding against you again, timing his thrusts with your shifting.

He closed his eyes as his thrusts got sloppier, the building heat in his gut reaching its peak. He knew he couldn't hold out for much longer, and he was careless with his sounds, his heavy breathing against your neck becoming louder and louder.

Leon's body tensed, and with a muffled groan, he came, his cock twitching as he spilled into his pants. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as the car continued to jostle along the path, your ass still bouncing in his lap, overstimulating his already sensitive cock.

His breathing grew ragged, and tears began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore, the friction becoming unbearable, and he bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his whimpers.

Despite the overstimulation, the continued friction of your ass bouncing against him caused his cock to twitch and harden once more, much to his confusion and frustration. The sensations were too much to handle; his body was a mess of sensitivity and arousal, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to spill down his cheeks.

Leon's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the overstimulation blending into a desperate need for more. His hips involuntarily thrust upward, seeking more friction, even though it was torturous. Each bounce of your ass pushed him closer to the edge again, and he couldn't understand how he could be this turned on despite having just cum.

Minutes felt like hours, and Leon's body was on the brink of collapse. The continued friction, combined with his heightened sensitivity, pushed him to the edge once more. He tried to stay silent, but soft whimpers escaped his lips, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you, desperate and needy.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, you turned your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips.

The realization hit him like a freight train—you knew. You had known all along. Your smirk widened as you watched him, your eyes dark with arousal.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "You've been such a good boy, Leon."

Leon's breath hitched, his body trembling as your words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. He was overwhelmed, his senses on overdrive as you licked the tears from his face, your tongue tracing a path along his cheek.

Without warning, you began grinding against him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. The friction was maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his overstimulated cock. Leon's hands tightened around your waist, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to hold on.

"You like this, don't you?" you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing amusement. "Getting hard again so soon after cumming. Such a needy boy."

Leon could only nod, his voice failing him as you continued to grind against him, each movement sending him spiraling further into a state of desperate arousal. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

Your pace quickened, and Leon's breath came in short, ragged gasps. Each grind of your hips sent jolts of pleasure through his overstimulated body, and he clung to you as if you were his lifeline. His tears mingled with sweat, his entire world narrowing down to the intoxicating friction and your teasing whispers in his ear.

With a final, deliberate roll of your hips, you sent him over the edge again. Leon's body convulsed, his cries muffled against your shoulder as he came for the second time, his cock throbbing and spilling more cum into his already-soaked pants. His tears of overstimulation turned to tears of overwhelming pleasure, his entire being consumed by the raw, intense sensations. You held him tightly, a satisfied smirk on your lips as you licked away his tears, savoring the sweet taste of his submission.

As the last waves of his orgasm subsided, you continued to move gently, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from his exhausted body.

Leaning in close, you kissed him tenderly, a silent promise of many more games to come. In that moment, Leon knew he was utterly and completely yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When they finally pulled up to the cabin, Chris hadn't even fully parked before Leon threw you off his lap and bolted for the door. His face was a deep shade of crimson, and he mumbled a halfhearted excuse about needing to use the washroom, doing his best to conceal the completely soaked front of his pants. As he disappeared inside, you couldn't help but laugh softly, the image of his flustered expression etched in your mind. You exchanged a knowing glance with Claire, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Smiling innocently, you shrugged, already anticipating the next opportunity to tease Leon further.

[justcruisingaroundrevived]

Wouldn’t it be interesting if the yandere TEC boys met up with the reader as grown ups in the epilogue of the comic after the reader moved away from them to you know, get away from their stalking and in the worst turn of events, met them at the con again?

But I Know Will Meet Again Some Sunny Day

Summary: Yandere! Epilogue! TEC x reader

TW/CW: Yandere tendencies, obsessive tendencies, kidnapping, stalking, online harassment, trolling, implied exploitation, nasty all around

A/N: You’re insane if you decide to go to any nerdy space ever again/POS

Anyways, this was so awesome to do! Need more epilogue TEC as yanderes!

Reblogs are appreciated!

* Bill had the hardest time letting you go

* Even after moving to Wisconsin with his family, he still thought about you every second of the day

* Closing his eyes, he’s be reminded of your face, and he hated it. Spent long nights staring at the ceiling, wondering about what went wrong and how he can fix it

* Was he too clingy? Too pushy? Too distant? Did he not show his emotions enough?!

* Eventually, he concludes to the simple answer: It was not his fault, it was yours. You simply didn’t reciprocate anything he gave you, and he was the perfect partner for you

* However, he pushed them away in order to start his comic book shop business, and was grinding the hours for you. He never stop thinking about you once the day was over

* He spots you first at comic con. You were looking over the limited edition comic books put up for auction and god! He could tell it was you based on the way you laugh with the person running the booth

* Pushing people aside, Bill then just stood silently behind you, watching your every move, not caring people were giving him weird stares for basically standing in the middle of the con

* When you saw him, you could feel your entire body froze. It was like you were a teenager again, but this time, you were now dealing with an older version of your stalker

* Definitely ran in the opposite direction, and Bill was right on your tail. He won’t loose you like last time

* By some miracle (tragedy in your case) he got you into a corner

* He’s so pathetic. Sweating, close to crying, stumbling over his words…he’s just a mess seeing you

* Moving slightly away from his eye sight results in him gripping his shoulders and keeping you in place while he gives the creepiest monologue in your entire life (he’s been practicing it for a decade)

* If you let him, he’ll followed you for the rest of the con, like a pathetic puppy. Doesn’t matter if you have the money or not, he’ll get you whatever you want

* It’s creepy honestly, but at least you get some free stuff out of it

* (What you don’t hear is his grumbling. He’s complaining about “Fantards ruin everything” and “You only need me. I’m the man of this relationship, I can take care of you.” Can hear a couple of words, but it’s almost vague)

* Please distract him. Point him to an auction panel and pay for the next plane ticket and get the FUCK out of there

* Sure, he’ll destroy his hotel room. You bled him dry, and now he has to call his bitch of a mom to buy him a ticket!

* No worry. He able to find your name in Facebook! Least he can online stalk you before his next big move

* Josh was honestly writing smutty fanfics about you while in college. Let’s be honest

* He was so devastated that you moved away, and what’s worse is that these fanfics were sometimes handed in, so now the professor and the whole class knew about is infatuation with you!

* Worst of all? His parents forbade him from talking to you! That meant he couldn’t even contact you online! Ain’t that disappointing

* That doesn’t mean he was completely hopeless. At college, he’d use the WiFi to see if you were in Facebook and would stare at your photos for hours and hours at a time. If he’s on break, he may or may not have…relived himself looking at pictures of you.

* Even as a comic book editor, he gets caught up writing about you. You invade even in his dreams, dammit!

* His therapist tells him he’s too obsessed, but DAMMIT! He knew what you two was special

* So when he sees you having lunch during Comic-Con, he knows this is perfect timing!

* You noticed him tapping your shoulder and are immediately spooked

* He looks exactly the same, except his hair line’s receding. He’s breathing so heavily, you have to snap your fingers to get him back into reality.

* Once you do, it’s a vomit of words. He’s so excited to see you, how have you been, you look amazing!

* You nod quietly while searching for the nearest exit

* He’s pouring his heart out to you (talking about every single detail about you. It’s very graphic and some of these things you thought only belonged to you)

* You sneakily told Josh that you were going to go get him some lunch before booking to the exit

* Josh doesn’t seem to notice. He’s so entranced in his sonnet that he’s going to get a few stares because he’s now talking to himself

* He’s so disappointed when he realizes you left. However, thanks to his “”connections”” (barely any), he can see if your name will be blacklisted from the whole comic book industry (it won’t. People barely know his name)

* In the meantime, he’s creating fake accounts and using them to send long messages about “us”. It ranges from kind of sweet to horrifying.

* You had to get a new phone number from how bad the stalking has become…at least until he finds THAT one as well

* He’s persistent, I give him that.

* You would not step into Comic con whatsoever

* Pete’s rage of you moving away is all he can think about some nights. Couldn’t you see how perfect you two were made for each other?!

* Uses a punching bag, with a picture of you on it, and absolutely goes HAM on it. He’s not stopping until he’s exhausted (or the punching bag is knocked down)

* (Definitely takes the picture and uses it for…other things)

* Even working at Sick Mofo, he actively will look for women that look like you. In some weird revenge way.

* Looks at the scar he gave himself in your initials. It’s his only motivation some days honestly

* You probably were dragged by your friends to go to this event. It was pretty okay, actually! Especially taking pictures of cosplayers

* Then…you locked eyes with Pete.

* You don’t know what happened next. All you know was that you and Pete are in the parking lot, nowhere else to go

* He’s berating you. Talking about how “All you normies as the same” and “You don’t know how good you had it!”

* …Definitely kidnaps you. Drags you to the Sick Mofo van and drives you to his hotel room

* Once there, he knows what he must do. What? You thought he came empty handed? Nope.

* Somehow, this decade long dry spell has had resulted in Pete coming up with a basic “tool kit”

* Just imagining DIY brainwashing, and that’s Pete. He wants you to “remember all of the good times” you two had. Plays his favorite horror movies, yells at you, keeps you sleep deprived. The whole shebang honestly

* Wants to break you to the very last bone.

* If it works, then awesome! If not….well, he has room in his house for his (literal) cemetery girl. You’ll never leave his sight ever again <3

* Jerry got therapy. He realized how bad his obsession for you got, and needed help.

* And he did! Does yoga, focuses on himself, and even got a girlfriend who he loves! He never thought a life without you was possible, but this is living proof of that!

* Like I said, all of the stalking was online, so you probably aren’t aware on Jerry’s true nature

* You met him at con, and it was super nice to meet him and Mandi!

* With the promise of buying con food, you three sat down and actually had a nice chat. You and Mandi got along so well, especially with your interest in the car they drove in.

* Jerry was so happy two of his favorite people were getting along…except, that aching feeling….

* Why did he feel an ache in his chest when Mandi brushed her hand on your shoulder? Why did it feel so wrong calling you an “old friend” and not his partner? He knows you’re not his property, but still…

* Said your goodbyes and exchanged numbers. Least you two can be is Facebook Friends, right?

* Looking you up, you seem to be doing good in life. Good for you! (Though he wishes he was in your college graduation photo)

* He can’t focus on anything else for the rest of the week. Staying up all night, thinking about how you moved on so fast from him. Is that fair, when he was the one who let you lay your head on his shoulder while you cry about the trolls? What about when he introduced you to Magic: The Gathering?! Did you forget about those times??? Has it been that long since you remembered him?!

* May have opened up a new trolling account and may be using it to stalk you….

* Sending you nasty messages that he’s been holding for so long; they’re so venom filled and it would make Patrick Bateman tell Jerry to tone it down

* He’s loosing sleep over this. He’s not showing up to the tournaments, has been ignoring Mandi (she left him without him realizing) and has become a shut in

* At this point, he’s surrounded by Monster Energy drinks, stale fast food, and the computer light on his face

* Made 5 new accounts to constantly harass you with, while using his public Facebook to compliment you and your accomplishments

* …it’s all your fault. You caused him to spiral like this, and he’ll make sure you pay for turning him like this

* Unless you want him, of course! Then all is forgiving, darling

[hgfictionwriter]

Still Yours - Part Three: Downfall

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: After a silent truce, you finally agree to talk with Jessie after her confession. Things are worse than Jessie feared.

Warnings: Angst. Mention of self-hate. Language.

A/N: Series can be found here.

“Can we talk? Please?”

Jessie’s beseeching voice carried softly through the kitchen to your retreating form. The girls were fast asleep and you two had independently and silently worked through the tasks you had to do before tomorrow.

You wouldn’t even look at her.

It had been a couple of days since she told you about her indiscretion with Mia. Outside of that first night when you cried in her arms, you’d been cold and kept your distance.

On the surface, things were functioning normal enough. You were civil to her. The days and activities ticked on without much of a hitch. You put on a mask for the girls, offering a polite smile if Jessie cracked a joke. Engaging with her as needed, but contact outside of the girls was essentially non-existent.

Jessie was still very much relegated to the guest room. She got up at the crack of dawn and headed downstairs each morning before either girl could see her leaving that room, but it was nothing short of a miracle that they hadn’t caught her yet.

It was only a matter of time until the girls would notice something was wrong. And unfortunately, you and Jessie were no closer to a resolution of any kind. Any time she tried to catch you alone, you made an excuse to leave or simply told her you weren’t ready to talk.

It was driving Jessie insane. You’d never been withholding and cold. If anything, she’d been the distant one at times. She had no clue how to navigate this properly and she was terrified of what was to come.

She was trying to respect your boundaries, but it was hard.

To her surprise, you paused at the base of the stairs and eventually turned to face her. She found herself subconsciously swallowing through her apprehension.

You didn’t say anything at first and instead walked past her, making fleeting eye contact, and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“I suppose we’re on borrowed time. I think the girls already know something’s off,” you said in a near mumble as you placed your hands atop the table and idly played with your fingers, eyes determinedly focused on them.

Jessie’s heart raced as she tentatively took a seat across from you. You finally glanced up at her before averting your gaze again. You took a quiet breath.

“I was able to get in to see my therapist today. So. I feel a bit more prepared for this conversation,” you relayed evenly.

Jessie pushed down the worry that spiked at mention of your therapist. Your therapist would tell you to leave her. She was sure of it.

“Oh. That’s good that you got in to see her,” Jessie offered.

You returned a tight smile. “Mhm.”

“I know it helps you,” Jessie went on in an attempt to be supportive. She didn’t anticipate the glare you shot from across the table.

“Maybe you should’ve actually used your resources, too. You get access to therapists and all sorts of help and you don’t use them for the things you should. Maybe if you’d talked with them about how you were feeling - even if you couldn’t tell me-" you added bitingly, "we wouldn’t be in this mess."

You let out a single, delayed laugh and added, “Mind you. You had no problem telling a girl you hardly knew about all your deepest fears and concerns, so, you know. Who needs therapy anyway.”

Jessie hung her head in her hands and grit her teeth together, failing to hold back a groan of frustration. She dropped her hands right away with a breath.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I can’t express that enough. I know it was so fucked up of me. I-I honestly didn’t even know how much I was harbouring until…this. It just happened,” she said dejectedly.

“Cheating doesn’t ‘just happen’, Jess,” you stated harshly, sitting forward. You glanced at the stairwell before sitting back with a weary sigh.

The room was heavy and quiet for a moment, your gaze set on the table before you spoke once more, your voice softer while you shook your head in disillusionment.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around this. It doesn't feel real. Like - there’s no way Jessie would do this. My Jessie. My love. She would never do this. She loves me. She loves our family. She’s my person. She wouldn’t want someone else. She wouldn't stray. She wouldn't betray me.”

Jessie heart sank and she opened her mouth to speak. You spoke over her tearfully.

“And it’s so hard to reconcile because I’ve always felt so lucky. I’ve seen the other wives and girlfriends, what they’ve been through, and I would just sit and think ‘I’m so lucky. Jess loves me. She really loves me. And she’s so dedicated and sincere. I can rest easy and trust that we choose each other and if we have a problem, we'll work together and get through it together. There were many times I felt so lucky I could hardly believe it.” You paused, working to swallow your emotion. "Guess it really was too good to be true."

"Y/N," Jessie breathed, her chest aching painfully at your words.

"I think that's been the worst part." You now wore a weak smile. "That I didn't know at all. I would've never suspected a thing." You dropped your gaze with a quiet sniff of a laugh. "I thought things were good."

Jessie went to interject, to reassure you, but you filled the space first.

"I thought we were solid," you said, a tremble in your voice despite the way you tried to look unbothered. "That we had each other's backs through thick and thin. If there was one constant in this world, it was each other. I thought you were happy with us. With me."

"I am," Jessie protested, scooting to the edge of her seat. "I-"

"Do you know how scary that is for me? If you'd expressed discontent or if things were off - we were fighting, being distant - whatever - then at least I could point back to that. Say I should've seen the signs. But to be completely blindsided? How do I come back from that? How can I ever feel safe or trust things again?"

"Baby, please," Jessie pleaded yet again. "It's not you. It's not us. I am happy with you. I love you so much and you're everything I could ever want-"

"That's clearly not true," you cut in with a steady stare and immediately subduing her. Jessie rubbed her hands together between her knees and stared vacantly at the table as she gathered her thoughts. More silence permeated the room.

"It's my fault. 100%. I-I honestly didn't even realize how much retirement, my career - all of that - was weighing on me," she stammered as her shoulders rounded out in dejection. "I-I think that I felt like if I didn't talk about it, if I just ignored it, then it wasn't real. And it would be fine."

"This has always been your problem," you snapped. "You don't talk about your feelings. I have to drag them out of you. And it takes coaxing, and encouragement, but I thought we always got there," your voice tapered and grew tight.

"And until now - I thought," you paused abruptly, seeming to tamp down your emotions. You carried on more steadily. "I thought I was special. That you could open up to me when you couldn't to others. That you trusted me and could be vulnerable. But it wasn't true," you finished tearfully with a pained smile. "You hide from me as well."

"Not intentionally!" Jessie refuted, feeling desperation building up through her chest.

"Jess! I asked you - various ways - how you were feeling about retirement, going into this next stage - and time and time again you assured me you were ready, you felt good, you were looking forward to it. It would've been entirely natural to have hesitation or fear - but you repeatedly told me not to worry. So I trusted you." The heartbreak in your eyes was quickly overshadowed by resentment and anger. "And to hear that you could bare your soul to this other girl, and then fuck her-" You had to stop and take a breath. You exhaled slowly. "It's fucking horrible. I can't even put it into words."

Jessie rubbed her face wearily. Tears beginning to sting her eyes. She was so frustrated - with herself, with everything. She felt so out of her depth and overwhelmed.

"I know," she cried. "I'm sorry. I was - I don't know, I guess I was scared," she offered, voice meek. "I've been thinking a lot more about it. Because I want to hold myself accountable and understand how and why the fuck I did what I did." She braved a glance at you to see you were watching her quietly. She continued.

"I've always had expectations, a clear next step. My life has been so heavily structured and controlled. This is the first time where things aren't so clear cut. Even if I move into a staff role. It'll be different. And I," your voice gave for a moment, "I think I'm disappointed with how it's all ended. Like I didn't meet expectations."

You frowned. "Jess, you're one of the most decorated players. And you're universally loved. What do you mean?"

She sighed in frustration. "It's hard to explain. I don't even know. Just - the last few years have been hard."

You studied her, the harshness in your eyes had mostly faded.

"How come you didn't tell me?" You asked quietly, the hurt evident in your voice. "I know you were frustrated after certain games and tournaments. And we talked about it. But in the end you always said it was fine. And you'd get irate if I pushed."

"I'm sorry," Jessie repeated. "I-I'm discovering I'm not great at really dealing with things."

You scoffed lightly with an empty smile. You shook your head as you stared distractedly at the wall.

"Well. I'm glad you finally found someone you could talk to." You meant it to be cutting and cold, but your voice broke.

"It was just that one night," Jessie maintained, her voice rising. "I didn't talk to her about anything like that before. I need you to know she doesn't mean anything to me. It wasn't about her."

"Right. It's about you. And me. And us," you refuted tearfully. "That you didn't feel like you could talk to me. For years apparently," you nearly sobbed. "What the fuck. Do you even want this relationship? Or is this some way of your subconscious finding you an out and your head just has to catch up."

"No, oh my God," Jessie protested. "I want you and this relationship more than anything. I swear," she went on, her own voice trembling with emotion. "Please. I know it's hard to believe me right now. I've always felt like I could talk to you. And you are my person."

You looked unconvinced.

"I-I think I just talked to her because...she didn't know me. There were no expectations. I couldn't disappoint her," Jessie theorized solemnly.

"It should've been me, Jess!" You said in a harsh whisper, still mindful to not fully raise your voice. "Or, God, talk to your friends, your family, the team psychologist - my God. And it shouldn't end with you fucking them."

You sniffled, followed by an irritated eye-roll at your own emotions.

"And disappoint me? That's so unfair. And so disheartening. I love you and have always been so proud of you. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. To follow your dreams. All I needed from you was to honour our relationship and marriage. To be honest with me. But, fuck that, I guess," you finished bitterly with a harsh sniffle as you wiped at your tears.

"I know," Jessie cried. "This is why I know it's 100% me. I'm sorry, Y/N. I don't know what I can do," she finished beseechingly, hoping for any kind of guidance on how to fix this disaster.

"Have you talked to her since?" You asked in a terse tone. You shrugged, but your face fell briefly as you fought to control your emotions. "I mean, if she was tempting before. She must be extra tempting now. With your wife being such a miserable, cold bitch to you. I'm sure you could use some comfort," you challenged.

"No," Jessie said adamantly through her dejection. "Please. I have no interest in her. Yes - of course I've been struggling and upset. But I've only talked to you, Elysse and Janine. I haven't talked to her since I left and I don't intend to. And I don't want to at all. I promise."

"Your promises don't mean much anymore, Jess," you said coolly, leading Jessie to sink further into her chair. You released a shaky breath.

"You know. Part of me wonders if I should just fuck someone else. Call it even," you pondered nonchalantly though your eyes were red with tears. Jessie's chest tightened painfully at the statement and she stared at you wide-eyed. You snickered. "However. At least I'm self-aware enough to know that it wouldn't make me feel better. It wouldn't fix anything. I'd just feel a thousand times worse." You laughed ruefully as you picked at your fingernail distractedly. "Believe me though. Part of me wishes I could be so flippant."

"I-I have no right to ask you of anything. But," Jessie swallowed, "I really, really want to figure this out together. I want us to fix things. And I want you to feel confident and happy again. Please give me another chance."

You studied her from across the table. Your quiet unnerved Jessie.

"How can I trust anything you're saying? Even if I assume you're being genuine - how can I trust you to even know what you want or what you're feeling? Now I'm worried you're just trying to fix things because you 'should' and - if you're worried about instability - well, the dissolution of our family would certainly be something you want to avoid so you can feel safe and in control."

"I love you! I love our family and I want us to be together more than anything. And not because I 'should' or anything like that. If I was afraid of instability, I would've never told you about this! But I wanted to be honest with you," Jessie proclaimed in exasperation.

"Yeah. You deserve a medal - let's add it to the collection," you said snidely. There was a flash of regret in your eyes and you readjusted in your seat, dropping Jessie's gaze. You spoke softly. "It doesn't excuse what you did."

"I know," Jessie accepted quietly. "It was fucked up. And wrong. And I am determined to fix things. I swear. I need you to know I'm sorry and that I love you, and I want a future with you as much as I always have. You're the one for me and I'll do everything I need to earn your trust and fix things."

You brought your hands to the side of your face and ducked your head.

"This is so hard. I don't know what to do," you said despondently. "I don't know what to believe."

The pit in Jessie's stomach grew heavier. And as desperately as she wanted all of this to just be brushed under the rug, she knew it was impossible.

“You know I’ve been cheated on before. You know that. Did I expect it from you?” You asked with a faint laugh. “No. Stupidly no. But I guess there’s just something about me not worth keeping around.” Your voice was even, but tears were forming again and you wiped at the corner of your eye irritably.

"Y/N," Jessie breathed, mortified by your statement. "Please don't say that. You're the most incredible woman I've ever met. I've always felt so lucky to be with you and so grateful for your love. This was all on me. And I've fucking ruined everything. And I've hurt you. And I hate myself for it."

"That's hard to believe right now," you said, a slight edge in your voice. Your eyes narrowed and you lip trembled. "You hate yourself? I hate myself. You're sitting here telling me you're so upset with yourself. You're fucked up. You hate yourself. And some stupid part of me just wants to console you. Reassure you. Like you didn't just cheat on me. Disregard me. Destroy my trust. I still love you so much but I'm so hurt and scared and confused."

"And it's not just about me," you went on tearfully. "We have our girls to think about. Believe me - part of me just wants to pack up and leave, take the girls, tell you to fuck yourself - or fuck whoever you fucking want to - but that wouldn't be what's best for them."

The mention of taking the girls away sent an overwhelming wave of anxiety through Jessie. You must've seen the panic in her eyes.

"You may have turned out to be a shit wife, but you're a good mom to them and they need you," you went on, some level of regret in your voice.

"But I'm also debating back and forth with myself what sample I'm setting for them. When they settle down someday and if their partner cheats, hurts them, makes them doubt their self-worth - I'd want them to advocate for themselves. To walk away," your voice broke as you picked absently at the table.

The visual you laid out broke Jessie. She bit back a sob and rubbed harshly at the back of her neck as she tried to calm herself.

"So I don't know what to do," you said in a high and wavering voice as you gave her an imploring look.

"Please give me another chance," Jessie begged. "Let's go to counselling," she added hopefully. "I've looked some up and I have a couple we can choose from."

You were quiet and it was a struggle for Jessie to wait patiently for your response. You eventually sighed wearily.

"Eventually," you said, voice thin and tired. "I-I just don't think I'm at a place where it would be useful at all."

Jessie's stomach twisted in tighter knots, but she gave a nod of understanding.

"Sure. Whenever you're ready," she said with a tight smile.

"If you can't wait. If you realize you want her or someone else - you'll tell me right away?" You asked, again, trying to keep your voice even, but it was thin with the effort of suppressing your upset.

"That's not going to happen," Jessie said resolutely. "There's no one else for me."

"You don't know that, Jess," you said with a vague shake of your head.

"I do. I really, really do," she said, looking you in the eye though you couldn't do the same.

You sniffled and rubbed your face in frustration. Jessie couldn't help but flash back to how just a few nights ago you sat across from her, smiling at her with all the adoration and love in the world. She'd broken everything. And you.

"I have one more thing to ask you," you said as you met her watchful stare again. She nodded.

"Anything," she invited.

You took a steadying breath. "Did you use protection?"

Jessie's stomach dropped and in the moment it took her to gather an appropriate response your eyes flared up with greater anger than you'd expressed all evening.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked, bewildered and mortified, surely your voice now finally carrying up the stairs. Jessie glanced over her shoulder and leaned in whispering in emphasis.

"I didn't, but-"

"Oh, you better fucking pray you didn't knock her up," you seethed. "I swear to God, Jess."

"Babe," she cut in, "I talked with her about that after. She's on birth control. It's okay. And I saw my doctor yesterday to get tested, so-"

"Oh my God," you laughed coldly as you held your palms to your face and shook your head. "You asked her after? Are you fucking-" You shook your head in utter disbelief. "I can't with you. I fucking can't."

You took a steadying, shaky breath. "Well, halle-fucking-lujah," you said sarcastically. "She on birth control. Great. One small mercy. At least one of you is responsible! I can't believe you fucked her raw. Are you fucking kidding me." You laughed again, your eyes welling up anew. "I'm so mad at you. I can't even fucking look at you." You tried to laugh, but your voice broke instead.

You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping noisily against the floor and causing Jessie to flinch. You stared down scathingly at her as she sat in the wake of her mistakes.

"I feel like I don't even know you right now," you added painfully. You shook your head as tears continued to brim. "I can't do this right now," you stated with finality as you stormed off.

You hadn't even reached the stairs by the time Jessie began to cry. She couldn't even bring herself to look over her shoulder to watch you leave or to attempt to coax you back.

She sat alone at the table crying quietly in this silent household for several minutes. She couldn't will herself to move. Her thoughts spiraled and her breathing began to quicken in time with her pulse.

Her fingers began to tingle and she stood up just as abruptly as you had earlier, banging her leg on the table harshly, but not even flinching or caring. In fact, finding some kind of reprieve in the dull, throbbing pain.

She turned on her heel and rushed to the laundry room to grab some workout clothes out waiting to be put away - idly berating herself for how she couldn't even go up to your room to grab clothes because she'd fucked things up so thoroughly. She got changed, grabbed her keys and threw on her runners and took off down the front steps and down the road at a fast clip.

The moon was high in the air and the sidewalk was illuminated in patches from the street lights. The neighbourhood felt still - no cars in sight as she grit her teeth and picked up her pace, taking full, quick strides and soon leaning into a sprint.

She balled her fists tightly as her heels pounded the concrete with each step, breath coming in sharp bursts as the sound of her footfalls echoed down the empty street.

She hadn't stretched and her muscles began to strain, but she relished in the pain.

She just kept replaying parts of your conversation over and over again. Her self-reproach grew deeper and more biting.

Things were far worse than she feared. She couldn't see a way back. She wanted it desperately. And she was dead set on working for it, but right now, she couldn't even see a glimpse of a future where you'd forgive her. Never mind one where you'd love her openly again.

She blinked back tears, but it was pointless. In a matter of moments her tears began to roll down her cheeks, mixing with the beads of sweat that poured down her face.

She ran harder, breathing roughly and unevenly as she fought to control her emotions. Her lungs burned, her muscles ached, but she pushed harder, willing away the emotions that threatened her.

She tried, she really did, but eventually she let out a sob, then another and slowed to an abrupt stop. She didn't even know where she was anymore and she didn't care. She leaned against the streetlight and found her body collapsing to the concrete, her back against the streetlight as she breathed in ragged gasps. She cried into her hands.

What had she done?

[zeltqz]

it girl | sanzu h.

synopsis. you find sanzu after a fight at a party and end up introducing yourself and helping him patch up. turns out sanzu isn't as extroverted when it comes to speaking to girls, rindou finds out.

contains. smut, first time (sanzu's a virgin), nervous sanzu, bold reader, mentions of violence, busted lips, bruised knuckles, kantou!manji era, nude/explicit photos, oral (m), sanzu gets head for the first time, koko rindou and sanzu are best friends idc.

author's note. sanzu's so pretty but i just know that boy has never felt the touch of a woman, hence why i wrote this lmfao. call it a power move or whatever 🙄 (i wanna see more submissive sanzu honestly). fanart credits: caravaggist

“My head is fucking killing me,” Sanzu said with a pained groan. He began coughing until he started laughing, running purely on adrenaline. “I beat that fucker’s ass, didja see that?!”

“Shut up, stop being so loud.” Sanzu winced when Rindou smacked him upside the head. He looked down at his busted, bruised knuckles and cursed. “We’re so fucking dead.”

“Told you not to drink that much,” Koko sniped, gesturing with his chin over at Sanzu. “Got us into a goddamn fight.”

“Not my fault you guys are such wimps.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Koko doubled over to catch his breath, slumping against a car. 

“Are you guys okay?” you called out, steadily approaching the three boys. 

Your heart nearly stopped when they all turned to meet your eyes, but there was one you couldn’t take your eyes off of the most. He had green eyes and crazy pink hair tied up into a ponytail. You’d been eyeing him for the majority of the party, just small glances over at whichever end he was loudly talking at. The entire time you had been taking extra shots for courage to approach him but pussied out each time. When you were upstairs, there was loud shouting, chanting, and the sound of things breaking as a group of boys managed to get into a fight. You didn’t see the full thing, only coming down the stairs the exact moment you saw the three of them run outside, tearing down the street and around the block in record time. A quick scan of the party, you saw the pink haired guy was no longer there, so your feet went running before you could even think of what you were doing.

He was much prettier up close, an ethereal kind of beauty you rarely ever see. Not many people can rock long pink hair but he manages to make it work well.

You ran out, taking off after them. It was a miracle you found them, having guessed which direction they must’ve took off in. 

“Who are you?” Kokonoi asked, looking strangely at you.

“I was at the party,” you gestured down the street, “and saw everything. Are you guys okay?” you repeated, walking a little closer to the group. 

Kokonoi’s hostility dropped down a few notches and he nodded. Rindou shrugged and rolled his neck, trying to ease away the stiffness residing in his bones. Sanzu, on the other hand, just stared at you dumbfoundedly. He didn’t say a word, just stared at you with half wide eyes that only widened when you met his gaze. You held eye contact for a few seconds before looking down at his knuckles. Out of the three, Sanzu was probably the most roughed up, having done the most the entire fight and caught the most strays. His lip was busted and his knuckles were bruised.

“Oh that looks really bad. One second,” you said, pulling out a tissue from your pocket “Can I?” you asked, looking into his eyes. He doesn’t say yes or no, and Rindou isn’t even sure he’s breathing anymore. He doesn’t stop you as you hold his bruised hand and lift it up to your face for examination. 

You placed the tissue onto his knuckles. “I’m sorry that happened by the way. I don’t know how it started but I’m sure you guys didn’t deserve it.”

Kokonoi snorted and Rindou elbows him roughly. “Eh it’s whatever. Bottom line is we won, so.”

“You guys shouldn’t be fighting like that though. Especially in public. The police got called and are probably on their way here.”

“Wait seriously?!” Kokonoi whipped his head up at you and you nodded. He cursed under his breath. “We better get going again. Don’t wanna have to get bailed out again.”

Again?

“True that,” Rindou agreed, dusting off his pants. His head was pounding and he might probably have a concussion, but all that didn’t matter to him. He just needed to get out of here. “Call Ran, he’ll come pick us up.”

“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Kokonoi replied.

“Better him than Mikey.”

“But—”

You tuned out the rest of their conversation and continued dabbing Sanzu’s knuckles, who still hadn’t said a single word since you approached. You blinked up at him and removed the bag from his hand. 

“Your lip is bleeding,” you announced, and he almost flinched away when your thumb rose to his lip. “Does it hurt?” He shook his head. “Can I put this on your lip?” You shook the tissue in your hand.

He nodded slowly and your smile nearly sent him straight to heaven. You pulled a water bottle from your purse and wet the tissue, pressing it on his lip and held onto his chin, tipping his head upright so you could see what you were doing better. Granted the tissue probably weren’t helping at all, but you had to work with what you had. 

“This looks really painful,” you murmured, fixated on the damages done to his face. He has these two pairs of twin scars on both sides of his mouth that you think are so cute. Without thinking, you let your thumb trace the diamond outline gently. You pull the tissue away from his lip and pocket it. “Does your lip hurt?”

Sanzu shook his head and you smiled. “That’s good.”

Rindou looked over at Sanzu weirdly, wondering why the loudest person in the group was suddenly so quiet. He didn’t have time to explore that train of thought deeper because Kokonoi spoke up.

“Rin, Sanzu. Ran’s on his way now. Let’s go.” He pocketed his phone and turned to you. “Thanks for the warning about the cops by the way. Really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem.”

A black car pulled up to the curb and the window rolled down. “You three are so fucking dead,” Ran said exasperatedly. 

“As long as Mikey doesn’t find out we’re goo—” Kokonoi’s relief came crumbling down as his biggest fear came to light. The passenger seat window rolled down and Mikey’s face came into view. He didn’t look mad, honestly he didn’t look like anything. Just emotionless, but that was enough to scare the absolute shit out of Koko. “Boss, we can explain—”

“Get in the car.”

Kokonoi swallowed but obliged, his feet dragging behind him as he walked around the car to get in.

You looked back over at Sanzu who’s eyes hadn't left yours. “Guess this is goodbye. I’m (Name) by the way. What’s yours?”

Whatever reaction anyone was expecting, it wasn’t for Sanzu to completely stammer over his words, forgetting who he was, or how to form a literate sentence. “Me name? Who is—I—what, huh?”

Rindou looked at him like he grew two heads, even Mikey raised a confused brow. You pressed your lips together in a thin line to stop yourself from laughing and Sanzu’s ears burnt with humiliation. Frankly he was mortified with those being the first words he’s said to you ever. Rindou thankfully saved him from more embarrassment by grabbing the back of his collar hard.

“His name is Sanzu by the way,” he told you before dragging him towards the car, kicking him into the backseat. The door slammed shut and you watched as Rindou entered the front next to his brother and then the car pulled off, recklessly rounding the corner.

You stayed there for a minute, blinking, then smiled giddily down at the floor before making your way back to your friends inside.

~*~

“Yeah they’ve definitely got a concussion,” the nurse said, snapping her gloves off. She stepped away from the three boys at the table and handed them each plastic cups of water. “Make sure you drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.”

“Thanks doc.” Mikey wrote her a check and she nodded, thanking him before exiting the room. He looked at the three in them in disappointment. They each had an annoying habit of crashing random parties going on in the street and getting shit faced, then turning up to work and events hungover or too exhausted. Now they have hit the final nail in the coffin by getting in a physical altercation with strangers and the police are probably looking for their asses right now.

“I have nothing to say to you three. You heard the woman, get plenty of rest,” he scolded before leaving the room.

“Who wants to bet the medical bills are coming out of our paycheck?” Rindou asked, sliding off the table. He rubbed his head exhaustedly and yawned.

“I might just have a heart attack if I see that,” Kokonoi responded, shuddering.

“That girl…” Sanzu muttered under his breath, scratching his chin.

“What?”

“That girl,” he repeated louder as if he just came to a sudden realisation, “was a fucking angel!”

“Oh. Welcome back to earth Mr. Who me is name I what?” Rindou mocked, amusement written all over his face as Sanzu rolled his eyes.

Kokonoi laughed loudly. “Oh yeah! What the fuck was that all about?”

“Shut up,” Sanzu grumbled and closed his eyes, blocking their mockery out. He tried to picture your face again behind his closed lids but the concussion was slowly getting worse and your face was starting to fade from his memory. “I need to find this girl and redeem myself. What’s her name?” he said snipply, snapping his fingers at the two boys for them to hurry up.

“Stop being a weirdo. You probably blew your chances anyway,” Rindou stated.

“Nah uh! It wasn’t that bad!”

“Who me is name I what?” Kokonoi repeated and Sanzu groaned loudly.

“Keep making fun of me whatever! But when I find her and make her my future wife I don’t want to hear shit from any of you.”

“Wow,” Kokonoi fake gasped. “You can tell your future kids the story of how you met!”

“Future wife huh?” Rindou chuckled. “So we’re just skipping past girlfriend?”

“Gotta aim big.”

Kokonoi shook his head. “That girl wants nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah? Well why did she patch me up and not you two fucking idiots then? HUH?” Sanzu gestured to his busted lip. The two boys had nothing else to say and just rolled their eyes, muttering whatever under their breath. “Exactly, shut the fuck up.”

Sanzu traced his scars with his finger. He could still feel the gentle trail of your finger on his skin and closed his eyes once more, picturing you in front of him, staring up at him with such care in your eyes as you genuinely found yourself worried at his injuries. He looked down at his knuckles, still bruised, and pictured your hand in his. He regretted not saying more to you earlier, regretted not actually having a conversation with you and telling him his injuries looked worse than they actually felt.

Sanzu stood up and Rindou called out to him. “Oi. Where the hell are you going? We’re heading back to mines.”

“I’m going back to that party to redeem myself.”

“It’s been like an hour and it’s almost three am. She’s long gone. Let it go.”

Sanzu shook his head, condescendingly clicking his tongue in a way that ground Rindou’s gears. “Don’t be jealous Rin.”

“Jealous of?”

“I got a girl that wants me for me, not my dick.”

“That’s something only a virgin would say,” Kokonoi inputs, laughing when Sanzu instantly closes his mouth. “No way, are you actually a virgin?”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are!”

“I’m not!”

“Who’d you lose it to?”

Sanzu scoffs. “Like anyone remembers that,”

“Okay playboy.” Rindou laughs. “I remember mine.”

“So do I,” Kokonoi high fives Rindou. The two of them look at Sanzu. “Well? What’s her name?”

“I was high. Don’t remember,” Sanzu shrugs. Rindou looks over at Koko who both equally look unimpressed. “ANYWAY! It doesn’t matter because I’m going to find that girl and redeem myself tonight.”

Kakucho enters the room. “Find what girl?”

“Redeem yourself for what?” Kokonoi asks.

Rindou laughs even louder. “Redeem himself for “Oh friend who I am what?””

Sanzu’s ears burn when Koko joins in the laughter. “Alright so just forget my question. Cool,” Kakucho rolls his eyes.

“Sanzu got us into a fight tonight and some girl helped him with his busted lip and now he thinks he’s in love.”

“I don’t think—”

“We know,” Kokonoi interrupts.

Sanzu shoots him a glare. “If you’d let me finish,” he says snarkily. “I don’t think I'm in love. I know I am.”

“In love with a girl you don’t even know the name of?” Kakucho asks hesitantly. He should be used to this by now honestly, it's not the first time Sanzu got hyper fixated over something, except in this case it's someone. In actuality, he should be worried for this girl, knowing how obsessive Sanzu gets at times. Picturing the boy in a relationship was something Kakucho just could not do no matter how hard he tries.

“I’ll find her name. You forget who I am and what I do in this goddamn organisation?”

“Aside from dragging us to useless parties and getting us involved in unnecessary fights?” Rindou asked.

“You had fun tonight, stop acting like you hated it that bad,” Sanzu complained.

“What did this girl look like?” Kakucho asks.

Sanzu describes your appearance from your height all the way down to your eye colour, recounting to his friends every single detail he managed to observe about you the entire time he spent staring at you. They all looked at him with concern.  Sanzu noticed their glare and shrugged. “What?”

“Surprised you didn’t count every single lash of hers honestly,” Kokonoi rubbed his forehead exhaustedly when his head pounded again. “This headache is killing me. Gonna head home.”

They all said goodbye and waited for him to leave the room. 

“I think I know the girl,” Kakucho said, recounting the horrifying moment of Sanzu describing you in as much detail as possible. 

“WHAT?!” Sanzu exclaimed far too loudly for his head and Rindou’s to handle, a sharp pain shooting their heads. “Ah fuck,” he groaned, rubbing his head. 

“Are you serious?” Rindou asked, looking at Kakucho who nodded.

“Yeah. Someone like that lives on my floor. I see her leaving every morning.”

“To Kakucho’s we go!” Sanzu grinned, grabbing the younger boy's hand and dragging him outside. Rindou reluctantly follows behind them, wanting to see where this situation was heading. 

Kakucho ended up being right, and when they entered the lobby of his apartment, they saw you collecting your mail. Sanzu’s feet felt frozen to the floor as he just stared at your side profile. He almost had a stroke when you turned to face in his direction, and he swore you were looking directly at him when you broke out into a smile, waving your hand.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” you said and Sanzu was confused. It’s only been a few hours, hasn’t it? 

You were walking and he stood up a little straight when it looked like you were heading towards his direction, only for his heart to do a complete 360 when you hugged Kakucho instead. It wasn’t an affectionate hug, both your hands barely lingered on each other’s body, just an awkward side hug that lasted barely 2 seconds.

“Yeah, you know. I’ve been busy with work and stuff.”

“Ah cool cool. I’ve been collecting your mail though.” You handed him his mail. He thanked you and held them under his arm. 

You looked at two boys next to them and then gasped. “Oh its you!” You pointed between Sanzu and Rindou, who only nodded, asking how you’ve been. Sanzu was frozen again as you and Rindou gave each other basic small talk, only breaking out of his stupor when Rindou elbowed him hard in the stomach. 

You bit down a laugh when you saw Sanzu clutch onto his stomach in pain. “Oh my god, are you alright?” Sanzu could hear the laugh in your voice, but didn’t feel offended the slightest.

“I’m good, yeah. Just distracted.”

“Oh. Am I boring you?”

He was too scared of the fact you thought that about him to notice the playful hint in your voice. “No! Not at all. I just have a concussion that's all.”

“No way. Does it hurt? Are you okay?” You hesitantly lift your hand up and press it on his forehead which is burning up. “You need to get some sleep right now.”

“It’s too late to drive right now.” Kakucho says. “You two can just sleep at mine.”

“Only if I get your bed,” Sanzu adds.

“Fuck that. Sleep on the couch.”

“But I’m concussed.”

“And who’s goddamn fault is that?”

Sanzu rolled his eyes. Kakucho sighed. “Fine. You can get the bed.”

“Let’s fucking go,” Sanzu grinned and started heading towards the elevator. The other two boys followed them and Kakucho looked behind at you. 

“You coming?”

Sanzu pressed the button and turned to look at you and Kakucho as you shook your head. “No, I'm heading back out.”

“Right now?” Kakucho says and looks at his watch, “It’s almost 4 am?”

“I know,” you sigh exhaustedly. “My friend, well kinda friend, I guess wants me to come to his house. Just got his text a few minutes ago.”

“At this hour?” Kaku says sceptically.

“So a booty call?” Rindou says and gets elbowed by Kakucho, telling him to mind his business.

You laugh. “I guess if that's what you want to call it. I don’t sleep with him, he just uses me to impress his friends it feels like.” Your eyes slide over to Sanzu who has a scowl on his face and looks away almost immediately after you make eye contact. “I don’t wanna do it but he scares me so I feel like I have to.”

“What’s his name?” Kakucho asks.

“Why? You gonna hurt him?” you ask back. Though you and Kakucho are only neighbours at best, you’re well aware of what he does and his reputation around town. The Brawler is his nickname, or was, back when he was in Tenjiku. But you didn’t know what his role or job entailed, all you knew he was in some shady shit and you wanted no part of it. 

“Depends if I know the guy or not.”

You roll your eyes. “His name is Osanai.”

“Wait a minute,” Rindou says, “Is he tall? Smokes all the time, blonde hair? Kinda tan?”

“Yeah…” you say slowly, sceptically, “how’d you know?”

“We’ve actually been kinda looking for that guy. Mikey wanted to see him, didn't he?” Rindou asks Kakucho who shrugs and points over to Sanzu who’s been awfully quiet the entire time. “Didn’t he?” Rindou asks Sanzu again.

“Oh. Yes he has.” He looks up and meets your gaze one more time before looking away. 

“Where’s he at?” Rindou asks, approaching you.

“I dunno probably his house?”

“Okay but where genius.”

You give him Osanai’s address and he starts heading outside. “Wait! Don’t kill him or something.”

“Why do you care what we do? Doesn’t he scare you?”

“I mean yes but that doesnt mean I want him dead…”

Kakucho sighs. “Sanzu wait here with (y/n), me and Rindou will sort this out.”

Sanzu instantly looks at Kakucho. “Wait—”

“Just do it,” Rindou snickers before the two of them leave. Sanzu watches them go with a betrayed look on his face, already thinking of 101 different ways to kill Rindou once he got back home.  You look up at Sanzu and smile at him.

“So…you can go home if you want. I don't need a babysitter.”

“No it's fine I'll uh wait here.”

“We can go back to mine?” you ask a little hopeful.

Sanzu opens his mouth to speak but the words can't seem to come out. He resorts to nodding and you smile, taking his hand in yours and walking up to your apartment. 

~*~

Three hours in and you’ve been binging shitty movies together, laughing at the bad plot and horribly written characters. When you first saw Sanzu at the party, he was outgoing and the life of the room honestly. Maybe your opinion is a bit biased because you were focused on nothing but him, but he had this energy that attracted you to him. Now, in front of you, he’s nothing like he was a few hours ago, he seems shy and reserved, keeping to himself but he’s still funny and cracks a few jokes that make you cackle every now and then.

“Wait you got a little, i’ll get it for you,” you say, cupping his chin and turning his face to you. He watches you with wide eyes as your thumb comes up to his lip and wipes some tomato sauce off. you make continuous eye contact with him as you bring your thumb to your mouth and lick the sauce off the tip. Then, you almost give the guy a heart attack when you go back in with your wet thumb and wipe the remnants of the sauce on the corner of his mouth. 

His pizza flops in his hand and something else rises in his pants as you pull back, sitting reasonably closer than you did before, resting your head on his shoulder, continuing to watch the movie. It’s hard for him to even focus on the TV with you sitting this close to him right now. He can smell your shampoo, your perfume, can feel your body heat warming him up and he’s actually going to pass out if you continue clinging to his arm like that. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat a little, hoping his boner goes down and praying you don’t see it. 

Just to be on the safe side, he nonchalantly grabs a couch cushion and places it on his lap, claiming he's cold. You don’t buy it one bit but only smirk at the hidden implications. You let out a fake yawn and shift even closer to him, bringing your feet onto the couch, shifting into a lying position. 

You look up at Sanzu and smile slightly. “Is this okay with you?” you ask, batting your eyes at him.

“Y-yea. It's fine. cool.” He swallows thickly and turns to look back at the TV.

The cushion gets in the way and you click your tongue, sitting upright and almost bashing him in the jaw with your head. You toss the cushion away and Sanzu's about to protest before you lay back down, your head only inches away from his crotch. His erection was going down slowly but now it might as well sprung back up. 

“Oh wait a second,” you said, sitting upright and Sanzu almost panicked when you pointed down at his crotch. “You okay?”

“I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it's fine,” you laugh. “These things are uncontrollable, I know.” Sanzu sighs in relief. “Do you need any help?” you ask and he blinks at you.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” you clear your throat. “That was a dumb question.”

“No wait!” he says abruptly, making you jump. “I mean, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Really?” you perk up a little. 

“Yeah I guess.”

You move to sit next to him, your head only inches away from his. “This is gonna sound a bit creepy but,” your eyes drop to his lips, “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you tonight.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you say absentmindedly, distracted as you ran your finger over his scars. “Thought you were so pretty.”

“Pretty…?”

“Yeah, you’re really pretty Sanzu.”

He bites his lip, fighting the urge to look away from your intense eyes in the dark. You’re leaning in closer and his eyes close and then he feels your lips pressing against his. It starts off with short pecks that linger a little too long before you're actively moving your lips against his. Your hand cups his face and you pull him closer, sucking on his lips and entering your tongue into his mouth. He moans softly when your fingers find their way to his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.

You pull away and plaster kisses to his neck, gently pushing him down onto the couch, your body basically straddling him as you kiss down his throat.

His body feels hot and he can't focus anywhere  but your lips going down his body. Your fingers grab the seam of his shirt and your lips tickle against his skin as you mutter, “Take this off.”

He obediently does as he’s told and lifts his arms up as you help him remove the shirt. You toss it on the other couch and sit upright to examine his chest. His abs were faint but visibly and you bit your lip, running your finger along his chest.

He stares up at you as you look distracted at the sight of his bare chest. You make eye contact and smirk a little before lifting your shirt up and over your head. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in your bra. You go back down and kiss down his stomach, fingers moving to unzip his jeans and pull them down.

“Wait wait wait!” You freeze and look up at the boy in front of you, tilting your head in confusion. He swallows thickly. “I haven't…done this before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Shocking, I know.”

“Oh. It really is. I thought girls would be all over a guy like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said before, you’re really pretty Sanzu.” He instantly looks away and you laugh. “You’re shyer than I expected Sanzu. At the party you were really loud and stuff, I didn't expect this. It’s cute.”

“I’m not shy.”

“You said less than 100 words to me tonight and we’ve been hanging out for almost four hours.”

“...”

You laugh and sit upright, leaning back in to kiss him. “Do you still want me to…” Your fingers trail down his body, rubbing the outline of his cock in his briefs.

“If you want to.”

“I obviously do, that's why I'm asking you.”

“Sure then.”

You give him one last kiss before settling back between his lips. His cock has never felt more sensitive than in this moment when your fingers wrap around his cock, pulling it free from his boxers. It stands tall against your face and you lick the tip, not ceasing eye contact. He feels obligated to watch you suck his cock and desperately wants to look away because he knows he will bust in less than ten seconds if you keep staring at him like that.

You take him in your mouth and he moans so loudly, the sound soft and heavenly. You smile around him and begin to suction your cheeks as you take him lower. Your tongue swirled around his shaft every time you bobbed. He was throbbing inside you, your heavy eye contact and warm mouth making him grow harder.

He finally broke the eye contact to throw his head back, a long groan of “fuccccckkkkkkk,” leaving his mouth as he placed his hand on your head, bobbing you up and down. You moaned when his hips bucked up into you.

You pull off his cock and jerk him off, his words dying in his throat when he feels your tongue lick his balls, sucking gently on them.

He sits up and holds the back of your head, his fingers digging into your scalp as he pants heavily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you focus on pleasuring him, putting your mouth back onto his cock and taking him deeper than you did before, your fingers gently massaging his balls.

“I’m gonna—fuck, i’m coming,” he groans and without warning holds the back of your head, pressing you down and came inside your throat. 

Honestly you were shocked he lasted this long. Your body felt so warm and hot hearing his pretty moans, and the sight of him with his mouth open, head thrown back was something you’d never forget. His grip on your head ceased and you pulled off his cock, eyes teary and watery and mouth full of cum.

“Oh shit,” he mutters, watching you take a minute before swallowing. His dick twitches again. Without thinking, his thumb comes up to the corner of your lip and wipes a stray drop of cum. Before he can remove his thumb, your head turns and you suck the tip of it. “You’re actually trying to kill me, aren’t you,” he groans and you giggle around his thumb.

“Are you a virgin too if you’d never gotten head before?” 

He nods shamefully and you can’t help but kiss him again. “Want me to take it?” you ask, forehead resting against his.

He blinks at you before not-so-subtly dropping his eyes down to your cleavage. “yeah.”

You grin and push him back down onto his back, slipping off the couch. He watches you strip down naked, your bra and panties are tossed to the opposite couch. Thanks to the help of the tv, your body is still a shadow but the outline of your body makes him instantly hard again. You climb back on top of him.

His hands migrate to your hips, and with absolutely zero confidence with what he’s doing, his hand slides towards your clit and you gasp when his thumb snakes its way to your folds. “You’re really wet.”

You squirm, slightly embarrassed but bite your lip, amusement in your voice as you say, “Yeah…that’s supposed to happen.”

“I know that,” he grumbles, still rubbing your clit in circles, wetting his fingers with your arousal. “I’m not an idiot.”

He pulls his hand away and you grab his wrist, guiding his finger into his mouth, watching him suck your juices off his fingers. “God that’s hot,” you pull his fingers out and lean back down to kiss him.

“I'm going to get condoms,” you say against his lips before pulling away. He nods and watches you head down the hallway when his phone buzzes. 

rindou: we found osanai so we’re heading back right now

sanzu: hell no just go home 

rindou: ???? walk home then tf

sanzu: don't think that's an issue honestly think i might be sleeping over if you know what i mean ;)

rindou: what? you’re getting laid? YEAH RIGHT

sanzu: IM NOT LYING

rindou: i never once ever in my entire life found you funny but you’re telling some good jokes right now

sanzu: 1) im always funny, 2) im serious.  i would send you proof but then you’d see my dick and thats gross

rindou: would rather bleach my eyeballs honestly. you could barely look this girl in the eye and you really expect me to believe you’re fucking her?

“I’m back!” you call out making sanzu jump. “What’re you doing on your phone?” you ask, snatching it from his hands and reading the messages. 

It’s a miracle it’s dark right now because Sanzu doesn’t know what he’ll do if you saw him blushing from embarrassment right now.

“He’s fucking rude. Why doesn’t he believe you?” you huff, handing him his phone back before your face lights up. “Wanna show him?”

“Show him what…” He hopes you’re not heading in the direction you’re so obviously going. 

“You know what I mean, c’mere.” You sit back against the couch and pull up the camera app on his phone. You hold the phone out in front of you, “Stick your tongue out.” 

He does so and you stick yours out also, just barely grazing his as you snap a bunch of pictures. You take a couple more in different poses, putting your lips in a kissy face and kissing his cheek, his lips and resting your forehead against his as you smile at the camera. 

You sit upright and scroll through the photos, smiling at each of them. “Send these to me after yeah.” You toss the phone behind you and rip open the condom. You reach behind you and slip it easily down his shaft before aligning it with your pussy. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” The tip nudges your clit before slipping inside, warm heat instantly engulfing the tip of his cock and his mouth falls open, panting breathily as you continue sinking downwards, watching the pleasured look on your face as your pussy squelches trying to accommodate his entire length.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, fixing your hands onto his chest for support. You bounce experimentally, ripping another moan from your throat it sinks you a little lower. 

“Shit, shit—wait,” He digs his nails into the fat of your ass cushioned against his thighs.

“Sanzu,” you moan, collapsing down onto his chest, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He can hear your breathy pants beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“You feel so fucking good,” He huffs against your ear and you sit upright, pushing your arms behind you to his knees and start swiveling your hips in circles that turn to full on bouncing on his cock. 

His eyes are focused on your tits that swing in motion with your movements and he can’t help but lift you up and down on his cock. “Fuck,” He gropes and squeezes your cheeks as you whimper, clenching around his cock with every bounce.

“Touch me please,” you whimper, looking down at him, grabbing one of his hands and bringing them up to your tits. He squeezes it and runs his thumb along your nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body, giving you more motivation to continue bouncing.

“Wait, slow down— oh fuck.” His body was tense, and you were sure he was leaving fingernail shaped dent marks on your hip with how tight his grip was. His cock felt so good, having a slight tilt to it that hit that spot no other guy had been able to reach. You couldn’t stop bouncing, his words falling on deaf ears.

“Wait wait wait stop,” he gasped, his grip getting tighter, bringing you to a stop. Wasting no time, you lean back down and begin kissing along his jaw as he catches his breath, impatiently wiggling your hips just to feel something. “I just came,” he admitted.

You froze and shot up, looking down at him. “For real?” he nodded, wiping a shameful hand over his face. “That's so cute,” you giggle and kiss him. 

You lifted yourself up and off his cock and laid down on top of him. “Did you like it?” you ask, tracing your finger along his chest.

“Yeah, it felt so good.”

“Yay,” you smiled bashfully.

“You didn’t finish though.”

“Eh it's not a big deal. I wanted to make you feel good.”

“Still though…” he mutters, pouting at the fact he didn’t make you feel as good as he felt. 

His phone buzzed and he sat upright to grab it. 

rindou: having fun loverboy??? u busy humping her pillow to text me back? asshole

Sanzu scoffs and you lean your head against his shoulder and read the messages. “Send him the photos.”

He turns to look at you, your lips almost brushing against his in the process. “You sure? You’re kinda naked in them.”

“I don't really care. It’s just a boob. You can crop it out if you’re that worried.”

“Okay…” He crops your chest out of the photo and stares down at the photos once more. He's never deleting these. He sends three different photos to Rindou, not even bothering to caption them and turns his phone off, waiting for his response.

“Oh wait! Gimme your phone!” You hold your hand out as he hands it to you. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Adding my number,” you hum and add your number to his contacts, adding a heart after his name. You’re never usually this forward, but you knew you wanted Sanzu from the moment you saw him, and you weren’t going to let him slip away. “Call me when you get home. okay?” Your forehead brushes against his and your eyes dart down to his lips, fighting the urge to kiss them.

“Okay.”

You give into temptation and kiss him slowly. Your thumbs traced along his jawline as you hum, almost lazily enticing your tongue with his. His hands ran teasingly along your body, cupping your ass and pulling you back on top of him.

The doorbell rang and you sat upright, cursing under your breath. “I’ll get it.” You press one more kiss to his lips and slip off the couch to re-dress. Your shirt was backwards and your pants were inside out, but you didn’t care as you answered the door with a cheery, “yes?”

Kakucho rubbed his forehead with a world heavy sigh and you instantly felt all colour drain from your face. He was with Rindou and probably saw the photos. “How can I help you Kaku?”

“Just…just tell Sanzu to come on, let’s go.”

Sanzu appears behind you,redressed, and gives you a hug goodbye, his arms lingering around your form for much longer than Kakucho considered friendly. You pull away and whisper in his ear for him to call you when he gets home. He nods and you plant another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Sanzu is about to deepen the kiss before Kakucho grabs him by the back of his shirt and tugs him out of your apartment. 

[blueberrybloom2]

♥︎ 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 ♥︎

[MonsterxMaleReader]

Smut Warning

AN: I had a thought and idk what happened

Your boyfriend, sweet and slightly dim, has recently been acting strangely while having sex.

His muscular frame towered over you with a dazed expression.

"It’s not enough to have you...I need you to bear my offspring. Then no one can take you from me," he rumbled stupid with lust.

It's like the moment he's balls deep inside you he becomes more dumb. Always saying something along the lines of pregnanting you as if it was possible to rut you into a medical miracle. If you could get pregnant, you would already be knocked up with how much he pours into you everyday.

"Keep dreaming -Ah"you managed to gasp out, as he began to move, pounding into you with inhuman strength and speed. The bed creaked and groaned under the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming against the wall. You could only hold on sheets as he fucked you silly.

"You’re not going anywhere. Not until I know you're carrying my offspring," was all you heard as your mind when blank from the intense pleasure.

As you woke, still half-asleep, your hand stretched across the bed, trying to find him. But when you opened your eyes, the bed was empty.

You sat up, blinking against the morning light, your gaze falling on the mess between your thighs and the tangled sheets remnants of last night’s chaos. The memories hit you all at once: his massive cock stretching you wide, his drunken, lust-druken grunts mixing with your own moans as he fucked you nonstop.

Apart from feeling sore and aching, you felt annoyed. He had left without saying a word, leaving you all messed up and alone without any aftercare. It was honestly shocking because he never done something like that.

“Bastard,” you muttered, your voice hoarse.

The room still reeked of sex, sweat, and musk but something else caught your attention. You sniffed the air and turned your head, confused.

Smoke.

You got up, limping your way toward the kitchen, still mumbling, “Bastard,” under your breath, blaming him for everything especially how much it hurt to move.

When you reach the kitchen, you found him wearing an apron and frantically waving smoke away with a rag. Aside from that it looked like a a natural disaster passed by. Every pan and bowl you owned had been used and discarded across the counter as the sink was full. Flour dusted nearly every surface, and wooden spoons and spatulas were scattered everywhere. On the table sat several plates with something that looked like coals.

When he saw you, he leaned over and smiled brightly.

“Good morning, love!” he said sweetly.

“Morning,” you replied, sinking into a chair in disbelief, completely at a loss for words.

Soon, he placed a plate in front of you with decent-looking pancakes, drizzled with honey and topped with blueberries.

“I was going to bring them to you in bed,” he said, beaming.

He's still sweet, right? Just not bright...𖹭

Author Note: Help, I made my own dividers! tell me why the bow one looks lopsided kekeehehe

[peachhcs]

samy and will getting caught doing… by like her friends or brothers

OOOP tehehee🤭 i feel like this would happen to them on more than one occasion as we know bc everyone loves to bother them at any chance they get

warnings: heated making out, shirts off, kissing, handjob, nipple sucking, p in v (unprotected), little plot

au masterlist

summer got annoying for two reasons. one: there were people everywhere. like everywhere. as much as samy loved a packed lake house, it was days like these that she hated how there was someone lurking around every corner which brought up the second reason. two: there was never alone time ever.

it wasn’t like she was some crazy girlfriend craving her boyfriend’s touch or anything. she was fine being less pda with will because neither of them were really into it anyway. they liked their private moments a lot more, but they weren’t getting any of those moments because there were so many people in the house. and because of that, samy and will hadn’t really been able to do anything remotely coupley without someone breathing down their necks and that was why she was craving literally 5 minutes with will.

he was definitely thinking the same thing too. they tried everything to in the car, on the boat, in her room with the door locked and closed, but every single time someone always had something to say about it or someone was knocking on her door needing one of them.

it was really starting to piss samy off. she could handle the teasing most days until it got to be too much and at that point, her brothers’ hockey friends were just trying to poke her enough to make her annoyed.

so it was a miracle when samy and will found themselves alone in one of the bathrooms while everyone was way too focused on the video game happening on the family tv. they couldn’t help themselves when they carefully snuck away and as soon as the door was closed, they were pouncing on one another.

will’s hands clasped around her waist so she was flush against his chest. samy tugged at his curls to deepen the kiss against her hungry lips. she wanted this so badly.

“fuck, will,” the girl mumbled, already getting worked up.

“been wanting you for so long,” the blonde grunted when her leg brushed against his arousal in his pants. they were both already worked up because of how long it had been.

“me too. want you so bad,” samy brought his lips back to her own.

the hockey player reveled in the feeling of her hardened nipped pressing through her thin shirt against his own. his hand drifted down to her ass, moaning out when he got ahold of the flesh and squeezing. they were so desperate to feel one another it was almost overwhelming.

“oh fuck, samy. ugh,” will tugged at the hem of her shirt wanting it off. samy smiled and obliged to his wishes, throwing it somewhere on the ground as he copied her movements.

she didn’t have a bra on and will’s mouth practically watered. he immediately dipped his head down to start sucking while samy’s head hit the back of the door with a thud. her back was already arching into him, the pleasure fogging her brain.

“shit, will. fuck,” she pulled at his curls wanting more.

“i fucking love you. you’re so beautiful,” he babbled in the midst of his tongue licking and rubbing every inch it could.

samy wanted to return the favor, so she reached her hand down to his crotch. his cock was straining in his sweatpants and it jumped when her hand grabbed ahold of it. will cursed.

“wanna make you feel good too,” the brunette mumbled as she began stroking him through his clothes.

“fuck, baby. i love you,” will jerked his hips to match her pace. she released him after another moment and her mouth watered seeing how ready he was for her already after just starting.

the couple worked at one another simultaneously until samy was overstimulated and she needed will’s lips back on her own. he devoured them, his brain already on a pleasure high from her stroking.

“fuck, baby. oh god,” he moaned.

“want you so bad, will. need you inside of me,” samy was wet with need. her panties were soaked right through and will felt it when he put his hand there to try and offer some relief.

“shit, you’re so wet. fuck,” he panted and they didn’t waste anymore time fully taking their pants off. samy dropped her shorts to reveal a simple blue, lacy thong. her boyfriend eyed her, licking his lips as he pumped his cock a few more times.

it leaked precum from the tip that will used as lube to get himself ready. he reached forward to stretch samy out a bit with his fingers, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible before he went in.

“right there, will. fuck, yeah. shit,” the brunette arched into him again, eyes closed and head back. she was such a sight to die for and will couldn’t take his eyes off of her even if he tried.

“‘m so hard for you. shit,” his breath hitched when he felt his cock twitch, entranced with the way his fingers disappeared inside of her walls. “need to be inside of you.”

“want you inside of me, will. so bad. fuck,” samy encouraged and that’s all the boy needed to hear as he lined himself up.

he watched as he slowly stretched her open even more. the girl grimaced at the way his length cut her open, but the pain quickly turned to pleasure like it always did the further he went. will held the wall for leverage and the other on samy’s lower back to support her. he tried resisting every urge to fuck up into her knowing she needed a second to adjust.

“fuck, you feel so good baby. i love you so much,” will didn’t have a coherent thought left. he pushed his forehead against her own while waiting for her to adjust. samy held his face in her hands, a grin on her lips.

“i love you baby. shit. you feel so good too.”

once samy was ready, will began moving his hips into a comfortable pace. his hands drifted further down so he could lift her up by her thighs and basically fuck her against the door. loud, heavy pants were leaving their lips and they just hoped no one would come looking for them.

“squeezing me so tight, baby. fuck—yeah. shit,” the hockey player moaned, eyes watching the way he disappeared inside of her.

“ugh, will. fuck. oh my god,” samy cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders but will was too distracted with the pleasure to even feel it. “right there, baby. right there. don’t stop.”

will throbbed, that feeling and urge coiling in his stomach already. he felt his balls tightened as a result and samy knew he was getting close. his hips faltered and the heavy pants turned ragged and uneven.

“fuck. fuck. fuck. ‘m gonna cum. ‘m gonna fucking cum, baby,” will warned.

“cum for me, baby. wanna feel you cum in me,” samy encouraged, but will wasn’t going to until she did first.

he picked up his pace even more, the tip of his cock hitting into samy’s core. she dug her nails even further into her skin so much that he started bleeding, but neither of them cared. the soccer player moaned and then the rush came. she released all over her boyfriend’s cock.

“fuck, baby,” she breathed and will wasn’t far behind.

his hips twitched and then snapped forward, digging samy’s back into the wall as he pushed all of his seed into her until there wasn’t any left. a string of curse words followed the release.

“fhhuckk, baby. oh god. fuck,” it took another 30 seconds for will to still his hips. the couple was a sweaty mess on top of one another, but it was worth it after having to basically avoid one another for the last two weeks.

“i love you,” the blonde mumbled into her shoulder.

“i love you,” samy agreed and that’s when a sharp knock on the door nearly startled them.

“you guys are fucking disgusting,” it was jack. shit.

when neither of them answered the older boy continued, “next time y’all need to get it on, do it in your room and not a shared bathroom.”

“well you’d be real surprised at how many people complain either way. fuck off jack,” samy snapped back at him.

“you’re cleaning that whole bathroom from top to bottom now. fucking disgusting,” they heard jack’s voice fade off as he walked away. samy and will exchanged a glance.

“his problem. that was the best fucking sex i’ve had in two weeks,” the girl shrugged and will blushed.

they did, however, clean the bathroom upon jack’s request in exchange that he wouldn’t tell anyone else they did that.

[wallysletterman]

you wanted inspo for wally - so here I am!! I've been thinking about stealing his letterman jacket for DAYS at this point, & wondering just how proud he would get seeing his name displayed so clearly on my back/chest.

57

pairing: wally clark x reader

word count: 0.9k

authors note: omggg this is so cute !!! i enjoyed writing this so much i hope you love it :3

wally clark adores his letterman jacket. he would wear it to bed if it weren’t for your protests. you have to remind him how gross it would be, but the only response from him are rolled eyes.

it’s a point of pride for him. for wally, there’s no better feeling than walking the halls with his teammates in those jackets. it makes him feel like he belongs to something bigger than him.

the five white letters in a cursive scrawl give him a sense of accomplishment. those simple letters made him feel on top of the world: Wally.

because of that pride, you’ve rarely had the chance to try it out for yourself.

there was one time, though. while wally was out on the field for this year's homecoming game, you convinced him to let you keep it warm during those two hours.and that’s where the jacket lay, across your shoulders.

that was until wally ran up to you and, without hesitation, begged for it back. you couldn’t take it personally. as much as you wanted to. it was wally, and if it comforted him, you weren’t going to complain.

but inevitably, you had had enough. seeing the other girls strutting down the hall with their boyfriends' jackets made you just the tiniest bit jealous. but you’d never admit that to him. wally was going to give you his jacket, whether he wanted to or not.

it was on a random tuesday morning when you decided to head to school slightly earlier than usual.

you headed straight to wally’s locker, 208.

you methodically turn the dial to the simple three-digit combo, 03-06-01. you hurried, worried wally was, by some miracle, going to show up early.

alongside his chemistry books, polaroids of you both, and random loose papers, was his jacket. you quickly slipped it on, feeling proud of what you were about to get away with.

the bell echoed throughout the school, signaling third period would begin in just five minutes: trigonometry. ugh.

you hadn't bumped into wally all morning and although you were eager to surprise him, you decided to touch up in the bathroom first. you wanted to make an entrance.

as soon as you stepped into the classroom, you caught wally’s gaze. you interrupted his conversation with one of his teammates, completely ignoring anything coming out of his friend’s mouth. his jaw practically fell to the floor.

you tried your best to act nonchalant as you took a seat in front of wally, politely apologizing to mr. reed for your tardiness.

the two numbers in bright white lettering stared back at wally, 57.

you were his, and you both knew it.

you hadn't spoken a word to him the entire period. you wanted to tease him for as long as possible, ensuring he would give up his jacket willingly next time.

as soon as you heard the dismissal bell, you quickly gathered your things. , feeling wally on your heels as you approached the hallway.

“what’s that you got on, y/l/n?” he asks, a hint of playfulness in his voice. without turning around, you responded, “oh, nothing, just something to keep me warm. it’s pretty chilly to-”

before you could finish your teasing remark, you felt wally gently tug at your wrist.

you had no time to protest as you found yourselves in an empty storage closet.

“wally, what are you doing? we have to go to our next peri-” you’re cut off by his lips on yours.

his minty breath was a stark contrast to the heat of the kiss. his lips, soft and inviting, were your absolute favorite thing about him, second to his everything. he was intoxicating as his tongue slipped between your pouty lips. you let out a small yelp as he brought his hands down to your ass, which his jacket covered it ever so slightly.

“i could fuck you in nothing but my jacket right now.” he let out in a hurried mumble.

before the kiss could get more heated, he gave you a final peck to your lips. gently grabbing your face, he whispers, “i liked your little stunt back there. it was cute.”

the light coming from the small crack of the door illuminated his eyes just so. you could tell he was hungry for you.

“i got tired of seeing every other girl wearing theirs," you tell him with a hint of annoyance. “i figured i’d take it into my own hands.” you sigh dramatically.

“i’m sorry y/n,” he says softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. you can tell he’s sincere. it makes you feel lousy about what you did. your boy didn't mean to hurt you.

“i wanted to ask if you'd wanna wear it," he begins, his tone a mix of anticipation and nervousness. "all the guys have been asking their girlfriends. i was just waiting for the perfect moment.” he finishes.

“i’m sorry,” you start to explain, feeling even worse. “sorry for what, baby?“ he interrupts.

he grips your hand, the warmth of his touch sending a flutter through you. with a playful grin, he spins you around, your laughter mingling with his. “i love seeing you in it,” he says. wally's eyes sparkle with admiration as he watches you twirl, enjoying the oversized look on you.

“you can wear it as often as you'd like, baby." he gives you a gentle peck. "i would love to let the whole world know you're mine."

and just like that, it became a routine. you wouldn’t have to ask for his jacket anymore. as soon as you two would step onto school, he’d immediately take the jacket off and slide it onto your shoulders, always stating, “i should’ve given this to you a long time ago.”

he loved seeing his name stitched across your chest. he’d never forget to remind you how good it made him feel. it gave him a sense of pride he’s never felt before. wearing the jacket wasn’t just about keeping you warm, it symbolized your relationship.

it meant you were his forever.

[ghostgirl-22]

p link

https://x.com/gaysexgang/status/1910790340375650451?s=46&t=oY926O_azsr0obp_vsHH7w

this with artrick <3

Hmm not sure if you’re the same anon… or just on the same wavelength but yes… Patrick’s absolutely gonna risk his professional license to fuck Art lol <3

CW: MDNI, NSFW, so… heed the warnings!! theres a little hint of dub con/cnc that’s resolved in the end, Patrick’s a licensed professional behaving unprofessionally, if behavior like this triggers you please dont read.

——

Patrick loves his job really. And he’s good at it. He’s never ever done anything like this. He’s a professional. Really. He honestly didn’t mean for it to happen. 

It’s just he’s actually the prettiest thing Patricks ever seen in his five years training and working as a masseuse (probably the prettiest thing he’s seen ever). Goldilocks curls, haunted blue eyes, tall but in an awkward gangly way… like he grew too quickly between 12 and 13 and never quite figured it out. Standing in front of Patrick, looking down at the ties on his robe, shy. 

Patrick didn’t mean it. But he did get hard just at the sight of him. Thankful that their uniforms come with an apron that is so long and loose. Honestly he took one class in college… freshman psych before he dropped out and from what little he remembers, this should be in the DSM. Trying to think when you’re horny. It’s a condition really. He can’t believe no one’s ever thought of this before. His psych professor would be so proud if he won the noble prize for being the first person to discover thinking with your dickitis… or whatever… a real and true condition. 

Patrick’s so hard and the client hasn’t even gotten naked yet. 

The client being Art Donaldson. What a fucking name. Patrick almost laughs when he spots it on the chart in front of him. 

“Okay um…Art…. first time?” 

“Mmhm… my fiancé got it for me, birthday gift,” Art says, soft little smile. Beautiful smile. If Patrick was a better person he’d go back in the lobby and get Sammie to ask another masseuse to take over. Especially now that there’s a fiancé. A beautiful boy with a fiancé. So very much off limits. But Patrick’s not a better person. He’s got this condition…

”So I’m Patrick…and it’s easy… just um… you can take off the robe and get on the table.” 

Art is compliant, shrugging the robe off and dropping it on the empty chair near the door of the suite. He’s deceptively solid for appearing so skinny. Bare chest chiseled, body stretched with lean corded muscle, pink nipples erect, his skin looks so soft over firm biceps. The small little towel is the only thing keeping his modesty and he’s blushing. God he’s turning fucking pink. Patrick almost unzips and starts jerking it right there. Strangled moan caught in his throat that he quickly swallows down as Art crawls onto the table, resting on his back. 

“Uh I usually start with you… with you on the… face down.” Words aren’t working for him anymore but only cause this is the prettiest boy Patrick’s ever seen. It’s like he was constructed in a lab based on all of Patrick’s masturbation fantasies. The only thing he could be doing to enhance the fantasy is be in some sort of uniform. 

“Oh god, sorry of course,” Art says, moving quickly to roll over. Fuck. Okay he hasn’t neglected his back muscles either. He’s Patrick’s walking wet dream and Patrick’s forced to behave himself because he’s a client. It’s kind of like a punishment.

He picks up the company's overpriced massage oil. Thirty two dollars for 8 ounces and a brand name. Patrick’s sure he’s found the knock off at Bath and Bodywork’s for six bucks. But it goes on warm and smells so sweet that the often snooty clients will pay for it like it’s gonna work miracles. He squirts it liberally on Art’s bare back and shoulders. His fingers itching to touch and not just Arts body. Art’s skin is warm, his body so tense. Patrick almost feels like a creep. This poor innocent client, he’s got no idea what’s going on in Patrick’s perverted mind. He starts chastising himself.  Trying his best to calm down. To be appropriate. To treat him like any other client. 

And then he moans. 

This soft little exhale as Patrick’s working along his shoulders and the broad expanse of his upper back that slowly turns into a very satisfied full bodied moan. Patrick bites his tongue and moves along that same stretch of skin and muscle again. Another satisfied sigh. It’s okay. It’s fine. Some clients are vocal. It’s part of the job. He wishes though that he wasn’t going insane.

”Lotta tension huh?” It’s a safe comment. It’s what he’d say to any other client. 

“Yeah and your hands are… I mean… this actually feels really… nice.” 

Patrick chuckles. He’s gonna behave. He’s gonna keep his job. The room is dim, soft instrumental music coming from a portable speaker, steam from scented diffusers. All of it meant to make the client relax but now Patrick feels crazy that this is actually his place of business. 

He works his way through a kink of knotted muscle nearing Arts lower back and earns another soft moan. “That’s right,” Patrick blurts it before he can bite his tongue. He expects Art to tense up… to say something but he doesn’t. He’s still on the table, unaffected. Patrick lets out a breath and continues, working his obliques. He’s breathy here. “You have amazing hands,” Art says, softly. 

Patrick has to swallow before he opens his mouth. “Mm I’ve heard that before.” 

Art’s shoulders move, a little laugh escaping him.  

“What do you do?” Patrick doesn’t usually like to talk but he’s in desperate need of distraction. 

“‘m a tennis player.”

“Well that explains the shoulder tension,” Patrick says.

”Yeah… my fiancé says… says i’m really tight.” 

“Yeah… I bet…” Patrick says quietly. 

“You feel it huh?” Art replies, aloof to the way Patrick meant it. 

“Yeah…I feel it.” Patrick’s working his way down towards the swell of his ass and another soft sigh escapes his lips into the forced serenity of the room. Patrick works just down to where the towel is sitting before he stops… just like he’s supposed to. The whole time Art is breathing, little gasps and delicious moans.  

Patrick’s hands are shaking as he moves away from the ass…to the legs. His calves are tight, the hair so fine he might as well be hairless. Legs so long and pretty like a girl. Patrick massages deep into the muscle and Art begins shifting on the table. “Mm feels really good.” He sighs. 

“Yeah?” Patrick coaxes. Then he remembers this isn’t his bedroom on pride weekend. This is his job. Where he works. 

“Mmhm, really. You’re so good at that.” 

God.

He’s working his way up Art’s thighs, when he fully crosses the line.  

”I actually…I think you carry a lot of tension right along here,” he rubs Art’s bottom over the towel. “I could get in there for you if you want?” 

“Yeah please, if you think it’ll help,” Art says eagerly. Too easy.

Patrick slips his hand just under the towel. Arts body is so heated there, Patrick gently massages along his ass cheeks. One side, then the other. He can hear Art breathing. Can hear himself breathing too. His dick is straining painfully along his pant leg. He almost slips a finger inside but stops himself. 

“Uh… okay how’s that?” His voice pitched so different than normal.

“Better,” Art says tightly. 

“Good, you can turn over.” Patrick lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He’s almost done but he knows it’ll be so much harder to keep his expression professional when Art is looking at him.

“Well uh… can I have a minute?” 

Patrick pauses, heart rate picking up. “Uh sure… is everything okay?” 

“Mm I think I might have enjoyed it too much.” He laughs a little. “I’m sorry.” 

“Are you straight?” Patrick blurts. 

“Yeah,” Art says. “Yeah I’m sorry i swear this has never… this doesn’t…” 

“Me too, I’m straight too.” Patrick interrupts. “I promise it doesn’t even matter,” he says quickly. “It happens all the time. Gay, straight, doesn’t matter,” He lies. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. You can roll over I assure you it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

Art laughs a little awkwardly. “Uh okay…I keep forgetting you guys are like doctors. You’ve probably seen it all.” 

“Oh yeah,” Patrick says. Just hungry to get his eyes on it. Art settles on his back trying to cup his hand over it, trying to keep it pressed down to his pelvis but it bobs up tenting the towel. 

The blush goes all the way down. Pretty and ashamed and oh so hard.

”Fuck,” Patrick mutters. He’s gonna fuck him. He reaches for it, runs his palm over it over the towel. Forgetting himself. 

Art juts his hips upwards against his palm. “Is this… is this part of it?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” Patrick says, breathlessly. “Have you heard of a happy ending?” 

“Mmhm,” Art breathes. 

“This is a happy ending… everyone does it. It’s just… not talked about.” 

“Oh,” Art says. 

“Yeah… so just between us okay?” Patrick says, honestly not caring if he loses his job at this point. 

“Oh…okay…oh god,” Art closes his eyes as Patrick slips his hand underneath the towel and takes hold of him properly. A very healthy sized solid cock. Patrick slides the towel down so he can see it properly.

Pretty pink and perfect like he knew it would be. One night with a gorgeous straight boy like this could probably ruin him for a fucking decade.  

He covers his hand in more of the warm tingly massage oil and slides it over Art’s cock. He whines, thrusting up into Patrick’s fist. Patrick uses his free hand to tease at his nipple. Watches them go erect as he pinches them. Soft and pointed. Art gasps, arching up off the massage table. “Oh fuck,” he whines. 

“God its so fucking pretty,” Patrick hums. “Ever been blown by a guy before?” 

“No this is my… this is my first time.” 

“Yeah?” Patrick smirks, cause he hasn’t even offered to do it yet.  

Patrick leans over and feeds most of Art’s length into his mouth. Fingers playing with his balls. He tastes so good, salty with the sweet minty taste of the oil. “Oh my fucking god,” Art groans as Patrick licks up and down. Sucking hard. He starts fucking into Patrick’s mouth right away. A fucking dream. 

Patrick slides his free hand into his scrubs and starts jerking himself as Art thrusts into his mouth over and over and over. Art’s just moaning, needy and lost and Patrick’s drooling, slobbering all over him. It doesn’t take long before Art’s movements get erratic. “Fuck I’m gonna—“ he gasps through the end of the sentence and Patrick’s mouth starts to fill with the sticky wet heat of his cum. 

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” Art moans as Patrick pulls off, some of it still leaking from Arts tip, dripping from Patrick’s lips. Patrick pulls the aapron off and yanks his dick out properly. jerks himself to completion while Art watches. Spills all over Art’s bare abdomen. Rubbing it in with his fingers when he’s done like it’s massage lotion.

“Mm,” Art hums sitting up as Patrick finishes, gazing at him wide eyed. “Was that um… is that extra?” 

Patrick laughs. “Fuck, if you come back I’ll give you that and more any day of the fucking week for free.” 

Art collapses back on the table, covering his face. “I really shouldn’t.” He draws one of his knees up. “But um… she really thinks… my fiancé thinks i need to loosen up and you… you have a really good… hands.”  

Patrick grins and wipes his mouth on the back of his wrist. “Okay then um… I’ll have Sammie mark you down for the same time next week?” 

“Yeah and next week we can start on the uh… the front?” Art suggests, gesturing to his now spent cock.  

“Sure,” Patrick smirks. 

Thankful for the apron Patrick leaves the room to let Art clean up and get dressed while he straightens up in the employee bathroom. He returns to the front desk just in time to see a gorgeous fucking woman in a tennis skirt is in the lobby walking out behind Art. His breath catches in his throat as she catches his eye, her fierce brown eyes lingering on him like she can see what he did to her fiance. He smirks and offers a sheepish wave. She shrugs a little smile in response and walks out. Sammie looks up from the computer. 

“You and your magic fingers dude. He just booked you every Tuesday and Thursday for the next 3 months.” 

[butterli5]

James was the first one to wake up in their shared dorm room since he joined the football team in second year. He’d heard plenty of grumbling from Sirius over the years about how no sane person should be vertical at that hour, let alone pounding pavement in the cold like it was fun.

So James tried, as much as he could, to keep things quiet. He’d slip out of bed without pulling the duvet too far, tug his running shorts on in the dark, and wrestle his sweatshirt over his head with practiced ease.

But lately, there was something…new.

Because at 5:04 a.m. sharp, just after he closed the building's door behind him, James would find Remus waiting on the staircase. Always the same steps. Always the same half-grumpy look on his face like he couldn't believe he was awake either. His hair was a mess, his eyes bleary, like he hadn’t looked in the mirror before slipping out.

Remus grumbled something about joint pain and Pomfrey and “might as well try some exercise and see if it helps,” and showed up on the steps in old trainers and a too thin t-shirt.

James had blinked at him, “You running?”

Remus shoved a granola bar into his chest. “Don’t make it weird.”

James didn’t. Not out loud.

But his brain definitely made it weird.

Because here was Remus Lupin, pale, quiet, slightly sarcastic Remus, jogging beside him in long, lean strides, his curls matted on a side one day, and falling loose around his face the next, his long legs managing to catch up to James by some miracle.

And James couldn’t stop looking.

Not just because Remus bit the inside of his cheek when hills got steep. Or because he cursed softly under his breath when his laces came undone. Or because he flushed so easily, the color climbing from the edge of his collar like a secret.

But because he was there. Every day. Tossing James one thing or another before they started stretching, a smoothie, a banana, or a granola bar, muttering about how he needed to eat something before working out for three hours, and then running beside him like it was normal, like James was someone you made time for at dawn. Like this was their thing. And every day, by the second lap, Remus would start to shiver.

James started carrying an extra sweatshirt without even thinking.

One morning, as Remus was catching his breath on the bleachers, James stripped it off and tossed it at him.

“Don’t say I never give you anything.”

Remus looked up, cheeks flushed from the cold, or maybe the run, and caught the hoodie mid-air.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, but still tugged it over his head.

Remus has always been more lean, and so the sweater was a couple of sizesvlarger than him. The neckline slipped off one shoulder, exposing the curve of a collarbone, sharp and delicate. James looked away immediately.

He did not think about that. Except he absolutely did.

He thought about the way Remus’s fingers clutched the hem like it was some sort of anchor. The way he pulled the sleeves down over his hands and stared out at the pitch, chest still rising with each breath. He thought about how Remus showed up in that same one the morning after, how he couldn't stop looking at how it looked like it belonged more on him than it ever did James as they warmed up.

He thought about it way too much.

So when he woke up one morning, clibimg down the stairs two at time with a goofy smile on his face, his stomach grumbling at the thought of what Remus would procure from behind his back, and didn't find him at their usual place, even after he waited 20 minutes, it hit harder than it should have.

He ran without him, but it wasn’t the same. The rhythm was off. He was too warm. Too alone.

Half an hour later, just as he was about to head inside, he heard footsteps behind him, fast and frantic.

He turned, and there was Remus. Hoodie clinging to his sweat-slicked back, face flushed, curls damp and wild. His chest was heaving like he’d sprinted the whole way.

James stared. “How the fuck did you catch up to me?”

“You were supposed to wake me up,” Remus snapped, trying to catch his breath. “We.. we have a thing. I run with you. Every morning.”

His voice cracked slightly on thing.

James blinked. “You sprinted a mile just for me?”

Remus dropped onto the stairs, clearly trying not to keel over. “Shut up.”

“You’re breathless.”

“I’m not.”

“You absolutely are.”

“I said shut up. ”

James grinned, heart hammering. He dropped beside him, thigh pressed to Remus’s, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his damp skin.

“Alright,” James said softly, voice dipping. “No running today.”

Remus huffed, but didn’t move away.

James nudged him gently. “Let’s just sit. Watch the sunrise.”

“I didn’t come here to sit, Potter.”

“You came here for me.”

Remus went completely still.

The sky was turning gold behind them. Their shoulders were touching. Their thighs. Their hands just barely brushing where they rested between them. Remus didn’t pull away. He didn’t say a word.

His breathing was slowing, but his cheeks were still pink.

James looked at him, really looked, and felt his chest squeeze tight.

Remus turned toward him at the same time.

Their noses nearly brushed.

Neither of them moved.

Remus’s eyes flicked to James’s mouth for one heartbeat too long, and then away.

James swallowed. His voice came low, raw. “Next time,” he said, “I’ll wake you up. Promise.”

Remus smiled, just a little. “You better.”

Their knees were still touching.

Their breath still mingling.

And the sun rose for both of them like it had been waiting all along. And along with it something gentle bloomed in James' heart.

[hedwig221b]

Hello! First, I want to say that I absolutely adore all of your fics, and I love your recommendations. I was wondering if you have any super long Derek fics, I'm not picky on tropes. I just love long fics, peferably 50k or over! Thank you :)

Hi! Thank you so much! I don't know if you wanted Derek-centric fics, or if that was just a typo, so I put together a list of sterek fics over 50k words. Lmk if you wanted Derek-centric ones!

This one's very long...

If You're Lost, You Can Look and You Will Find Me by DaisyBeats

Derek left once the Nogitsune had been defeated, needing to get away from that god forsaken town. 18 year old Stiles is just trying to get through the rest of his senior year without killing his 'best friend' Scott… and missing Derek too much. Stiles goes home one day to find a young man sitting on his bed with no idea how he got there. "Derek?!"

Again, From the Middle by rlnerdgirl

One would think the nogitsune rearing its ugly head again twelve years after having arrived in Stiles’ life the first time would have been the worst of his problems. Surprisingly, or not, it’s the beginning of them. In the aftermath of trying to find a solution to eradicate a thing that cannot be killed, Stiles finds himself a stranger in a strange land. One where the nemeton is a whole tree, the Hale house isn’t burnt to a crisp, and all the Hales are alive and living little Hallmark miracle lives. It’s… disorienting to say the least. Though getting to know a Derek that’s never killed, never been a victim, and never lost is an entirely different matter altogether. It’d be the perfect world, if it were his. For better or worse, Stiles has a world and a home of his own. A dad, friends, and thriving entrepreneurial employment that he’s left behind. All, hopefully, sans nogitsune. Unless he managed to mess that up along with displacing himself. Of course, getting back isn’t nearly as easy as getting… wherever he is. Partly because he has no clue how he got here.

My Name is Derek Hale by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"What day is it?” Derek demanded. “What?” “The day! What day is today?!” Derek let Stiles go, but only so he could reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. He tapped at the home screen, and then went so perfectly still that Stiles was pretty sure this guy wasn’t human. No human could stand that still. When it was clear Derek wasn’t going to move again without some prompting, Stiles said, “It’s Wednesday.” “That’s impossible,” Derek whispered. “Not really, it comes around every seven days.” “This is impossible,” Derek said again, looking around himself, as if he was searching for something.

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” That was a bad word. Not found. Have. Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more. “You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?” “It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.” Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes. “I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange. Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth. “Not too close, he bites.” Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting. “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton. The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.” “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek. He looked extremely displeased.

By Any Other Name (I Will Always Feel the Same) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Stiles very slowly reached up with both hands and covered his neck as best he could before whispering, “Are you Vampires?” “What? No.” Derek couldn’t help the small laugh of disbelief that slid up his throat, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. It didn’t matter that he was thousands of years old, or that he was bigger and stronger than Stiles was. Somehow, he was pretty sure once this conversation was over, Stiles was going to be able to crush him like a bug, and he hated that feeling. “Didn’t you say he was smart?” Boyd asked. “Hey,” Stiles insisted, turning to him with a glare but not removing his hands from his neck. “Vampires is a perfectly logical guess in this case. And he said I was right on the Supernatural front. Vampires are Supernatural.” “He said you weren’t wrong,” Boyd corrected. “Not that you were right.” “Well, the opposite of wrong is right, so…” Stiles gave him a look, but turned back to Derek relatively quickly, as if realizing he was delaying his own answers. “We’re not Vampires,” Derek said, then let out a small sigh before admitting, “we’re immortal.” Or: The Old Guard AU nobody asked for (except me).

the poets are right by endversed

"Actually, I don’t give a fuck who you are,” Derek says, curling his lip harshly. “This is private property. How the fuck did you even get in?” In an act of quick placation, Stiles throws up two palms facing outwards in front of his chest. His eyebrows knit together as he hastily and vehemently begins to shake his head, trying desperately to telegraph just how severely Derek has grasped at the wrong end of the stick here. “Hey, whoa,” he says. “That’s not –” “You need to get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.” Derek pauses a moment, his nostrils flaring just a second before his eyes flash burning red, his entire face screwing up in this expression of pure disgust that sends a shiver down Stiles’ spine. “Christ, and you’re a human? A human omega? What kind of fucking moron breaks into a werewolves’ house when they’re just a weak fucking human?” An alpha werewolf and a human omega: a love story that was never supposed to happen.

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of….

With Blood on Your Teeth by Melpomene (Aconitehart)

When his dad speaks, it's in a carefully neutral voice. "You saw two wolves tonight." "One wolf," Stiles corrects. "The other was messed up. It had a wolf face, yes, but it was…" He trails off, not sure how to describe the wrongness of it. The way its muscles moved beneath its skin, rippling and bulging unnaturally. "It wasn't right." The sheriff nods. "And you magically threw this deformed wolf across the store?" "I didn't say it was magic." "A beam of light shoots out of your hands," the sheriff says dryly, "and tosses a wolf several feet away. You don't consider that magic?" Stiles fiddles with his IV. It's pumping fluids into him, but not morphine, unfortunately. He could use some unconscious euphoria right now. "I don't know what it was," Stiles says finally. "It's just what happened." His dad sighs. "Do you know that all wolves in this state are tracked? They have electronic collars on. Every wolf in California is a dot on a map somewhere." Stiles bites the inside of his mouth. "There are no wolves around Beacon Hills," the sheriff says definitively.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

A Tale of Two Princes by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Given his nature of who he was, Derek Hale, only son to Talia and Marcus Hale, never expected to be married. Hell, he didn't even appear in public. But, after the war with the Argents, their country needed stability. And a political marriage suited that. Shame it had to be the prince of their neighbors to the south. Stiles had no idea where his life would take him. But a marriage of convenience to the crown prince of one of their neighboring countries wasn't exactly on his mind. He had to admit, it would have it perks. Both for the royal family, and for his country. He just didn't know anything about werewolves. Especially ones who were cursed out the ass. Oh well, he'd figure things out as he went.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void. It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Not Alone by ModeratelyScathed

When an unexpected visitor shows up with news that leaves Stiles reeling, he suspects that his entire world is about to change. But maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

Shatter My Reality by Halevetica

Months after the nogitsune, Stiles starts to see his own face around town. He dismisses it as PTSD. That is, until Lydia starts having a feeling that Stiles is going to die. As the pack scramble to find out what is going on, Stiles is forced to face a ghost from a past he didn't know he had and a future that seems to threaten his place in the pack.

In Case The Daylight Never Comes by plume_bob

There's a relentless dark shape tearing through the pack and that's only the half of it. Stiles just wants to sleep and stop being haunted by the faces of his night-time tormentors. His dad thinks he's suffering from post-traumatic stress, Scott thinks he's suffering the after-effects of the ritual; Stiles thinks they're both reasonable theories, except for the part where Derek Hale is the only thing that can take his nightmares away and it seems that fact is no coincidence.

An Apple's Blossom by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Derek had an aura about him—one that drew you into his orbit despite the warning of an imminent threat. It was like a dream, more than Stiles realized at first. Because it wasn’t real. Nothing about the man Stiles had started to fall in love with—romanticize—was real. ~*~ Stiles is a recently graduated art student who agrees to marry his family's rival, only to realize that maybe love is a little more complicated than he first thought.

Cloaked in Gold by kaistrex (weishen)

Stiles' world tilts, the bed dipping as a weight settles over him, caging him in. Growling. His eyes flutter open in distant confusion as hot air sweeps over his throat and he stares up at twin beams of gold shining inches from his face. Werewolf. Stiles does the only thing he can. “DAD!” The werewolf jumps at the sudden shout, blanketing him tighter, and it’s only seconds until his dad is in his bedroom doorway with Melissa close behind, flicking on the light. Stiles' mouth drops open as he stares up at the thick eyebrows, sharp nose and perfectly groomed stubble of a golden-eyed and fanged Derek Hale. - When son of the Alpha, Derek Hale, ends up in his bed in heat, Stiles decides to use it to his advantage and secure the Bite for his sick stepbrother. As he and his family are welcomed into the Hale pack, Stiles grows closer to Derek than he'd ever dreamed he'd get, but with the fanged Soulbite of a born wolf on Derek's neck, he knows he's just setting himself up for heartbreak. Derek has a Soulmate out there, and it definitely isn't Stiles.

When the Dust Has Settled by halcyon1993

After Gerard’s defeat, no one is sure where they stand. Stiles is angry at Scott and doesn’t know why his head is suddenly filled with thoughts of Derek Hale. Derek doesn’t know why Scott’s betrayal isn’t as painful as the prospect of Stiles being in on it. As they ignore their developing feelings for each other, a freshly resurrected Peter Hale schemes to get them together. No one ever said he’d go easy on them, though. After all, where would be the fun in that?

Shovels and Dirt by bellefire

The nogitsune’s power doesn’t leave Stiles after the spirit is defeated. No, it seems Stiles was changing and knowing what that darkness did to his friends he refuses to put them in danger again. He leaves without a word. Now in a new city with not quite new friends Stiles realizes no one can run forever. Because family doesn’t back down and also, yeah, that fuckin’ tree really is talking to him.

And some of mine, as a cherry on top

Twilight

Derek. Stiles thought about him the most. Something told him that it wasn’t the last time, far from it. He thought about his softness and his open desire to kill. Stiles’ hands remembered the heat of his hands. His neck longed to feel the coating warmth of Derek’s breath. His lips burned from the kiss that never happened. Everything was so fucking complicated. Except one thing. It was the only clear thought in his head. The one that made his stomach clench from fear, his heart stutter from hope, and his lips stretch in a smile. He was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Derek.

Yes To Heaven

Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it. Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled. What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.

Predators

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles. And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

Treasure

"I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.” It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

Wait For Me

"Stiles, we know about your Spark,” Scott looked at Stiles with desperate eyes, trying to convey something. “He is the Werewolf who's been chasing you. You must run. We’ll help you…” Stiles stared at his friend, genuinely concerned for his sanity, because the nonsense he was sputtering was really fucking confusing.

[masterlist link]

[growth-opportunities]

The "Alphabet Run" was the gold standard of speed swellers, women who would push their gifts of growth to the limits and get as big as fast as they can. While a sub-90 second time to add 26 inches to their bust line has long been theorized and planned by the community, it has only been recently that someone has pulled it off.

Devon squared up against Alyssa, alcohol still strong on both their breaths. Lightning arced between their gaze, but neither of them blinked.

"I'm so fucking sick of hearing this! So what if I'm already a G cup! That doesn't fucking mean anything!" Devon stuck out her chest, pressing her breasts against Alyssa's As. "I can still compete! I can kick your ass any day of the fucking week!"

Alyssa's eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a haughty smirk. "Listen, freshman. I've been doing this a lot longer than you have. No one naturally bigger than a C cup has ever placed competitively. Breast, ass, or any other category! And don't say Cooper Bering. You know as well as I do the only reason she placed is because the entirety of the Green City Growers was disqualified because they got caught using Prolactidine. And she still only got third!" She poked a single finger into the side of Devon's squished tit, the younger competitor trying to keep her fierce composure. "The point is, you used up all your growth potential, G Cup. You don't belong in this sport."

Embarrassment burned in Devon's cheeks and ears, her mind sputtering as she tried to figure out how to retort. The warmth only grew as her teammates stared at her, some with pity, some hoping she'd put Alyssa 'The Ass' (a nickname she earned not just for her primary event) LaRue in her place. Devon took a deep breath, holding it until she finally blurted out-

"Fuck you! I'll do an Under-90 Alphabet Run! Then maybe you'll finally shut the fuck up!"

Hushed whispers spread through the crowd. Alyssa took a second to register what Devon had said. When she did, she couldn't help a laugh. "You? The alphabet run? Yeah, and if you flap your arms hard enough, maybe you can make a cow fly!" Alyssa took a step back, slapping Devon's tit from underneath, making her yelp. "Fine, G Cup. You're on. You do an AR90, something no one has ever done successfully, even at a professional level, and I'll leave you alone. Hell, I'll make a public apology! But if you don't..." Alyssa's face took on a sinister expression. "Then you take your tits and get the fuck out of my sport. Forever."

The thought of giving up competitive growing, the sport she loved, made Devon pause, but she was too far gone. The die had been cast. She stood up straight and nodded her head. The crowd went wild.

"You're on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowd was going wild, cheering Devon on as she raced through cup sizes. Even though she started at G, it was tradition for Alphabet Run attempts to be counted by observers by letter for every inch grown. The run ended at Z, but many people didn't make it that far.

"R!"

"S!"

"T!"

Alyssa was sweating. She tried to keep her focus on the stopwatch in her hands, but she couldn't keep her eyes off of Devon. The sheer size and heft of her breasts was nothing short of a miracle. Even without the seven cup head start, they were a sight to behold. Each one had to be bigger than both Devon's and her own heads combined!

"U!"

And they were still growing!

Alyssa swallowed. "Y-you'll never make it! You still have five cup sizes and only... Five seconds!"

Concentration twisted Devon's face. Her chest heaved. A deep breath rushed into her lungs and-

"GRRRAAAAAAGGHHH!!"

The crowd stopped counting, simply staring in awe as Devon's breasts surged in size. They looked more like they were inflating than growing. Devon arched har back, trying to push every last ounce of growth that she could into her tits. By the time they stopped, six full inches had been added to her already gargantuan bust. There was a half-second of awed silence before a ringing broke the trance.

Alyssa's timer.

Ninety seconds.

The crowd erupted, rushing in on Devon to celebrate her victory. The now exceedingly top-heavy woman staggered, suddenly feeling the weight of her enormous breasts sticking out more than a foot in front of her.

Alyssa just stood there with her jaw dropped open. Her whole worldview had been shattered. She should have been embarrassed at the loss but all she could think was Holy shit... We're gonna win every fucking trophy...

[allfortheslay25]

Sorry to that one person who asked about more Milo in my inbox. The ask disappeared and has yet to come back after the draft refused to post so I’ll be posting it just like this.

Hopefully you see it🙏

I should probably mention I wrote this chapter years ago but only adjusted some things at the beginning of the year before January

Milo Future Spoilers

There was nothing like the humidity of South Carolina; damp, sweltering, and mouth drying.

Neil smacked his lips and wiped sweat off the back of his neck. No, nothing like it.

The press of something freezing was soothing for a split second before it was alerting. Neil flinched away from the cold glass bottle Andrew pushed against his neck before taking it.

"Thanks."

Andrew squatted next to him, picking under his armbands to collect the sweat building up under them. Neil stared because Neil liked this pair. A shade of white with the thinnest pair of double orange stripes down the inner forearm. Andrew didn't wear them for much. It didn't go with the silver and gold tone of his uniform nor the black of his wardrobe. He hadn't really put them on since Allison gifted them to him back in 2012.

Andrew took Neil's soda from him after watching the man do little to open the damn thing. He popped off the cap, licking the back before pressing it to Neil's forehead.

Neil quirked up a smile. "It's fresh."

Andrew just turned away with his own drink half done.

"Where the fuck is Nicky? It's boiling out here!" Allison shouted from where she was handing out drinks.

Aaron flicked cooler water at Matt when the man attempted to steal the last lemonade. "Probably got sidetracked talking about Germany again. He acts as if we haven't been caught up with him in the last week."

Kevin rattled the doors like a madman. "Let me in.

We're right here, let me in!"

It would have been hilarious, enough to bring smiles and teasing from the old Foxes. But recently, with Kevin's publicized relapse and his alleged divorce from Thea, well, no one was laughing at Kevin these days.

The outer court walls had seen better days too.

The orange paint had faded to a yellow hue, chipped and dusty with tagging unwashed at the corners. Neil knew the Palmetto Foxes had been on a fortunate rise and he knew sometime after his leave did it begin to fall apart. Wymack bit off more than he could chew, they said. Too many scandals, too many suicides and murders, too many delinquents being allowed on a court. But Neil supposes they did well enough to keep those doors open another year.

Neil's drink was promptly swiped from his hands, the culprit? His son, Milo.

"If you're not gonna drink it at least don't let it go hot."

Neil squinted up at the boy. He did that standing too. Milo had hit puberty and outgrew Neil sometime between 12 and 13, but then the growing never stopped. He stood now, at an even 6ft with no chance of finishing his growth spurt.

Lanky and awkward teenage limbs, freckled and messy haired, Milo somehow stopped looking like Neil. Everyone always says his baby face is nostalgic to first year Neil Josten, but if you put the pictures side by side, Milo always had something Neil didn't. There was a sharpness to him, something he couldn't hide better than Neil.

"Kevin, stop playing with the doors, you'll break them." Renee chastised. It was a miracle to have her here with them in the flesh at all. She spent most of their reunions on video chat with low internet. "I'm sure Coach will be here soon with the keys."

Milo, soda long finished, turned to Kevin with an otter pop between his teeth. "Does it bother you that much?" He mumbled.

Kevin let go of the doors with reluctance. "No... I just... I want to see it already."

Milo hummed around his treat before standing and marching over to the doors. He hip checked Kevin—an eerie sight as they stood head to head in height—and pulled something from his pocket.

Milo fiddled with the fence and it sprung open.

The Old Foxes stared in disbelief.

"You had the keys the whole time? Milo!" Dan said.

Milo shrugged, displaying a paperclip and a hairpin. He shoved the fence out the way and marched on to the doors he'd need a code for. As Milo fooled around with it, the Foxes all turned to Neil with faces of amusement and exasperation.

"He's your son alright." They said.

"Little Josten."

"Little Monster." They all cooed.

"That's 'Little Minyard-Josten' to you." Milo announced before punching a button on the door.

It beeped and clicked and Milo turned the handle to allow everyone inside.

"How did you know the code!?" Kevin wondered.

"They just had a baby, no?" Milo pointed out. "It's always been someone's birthday."

The foyer was almost the same as they'd all last seen it. Orange benches were set here and there, and the floor was white tile with orange paw prints. Orange cones were stacked in a corner, three deep and six high. A white door was on the wall to their right, and an orange door was opposite them. Only difference was there was a crack in the wall no one patched up, and the white tiles had muddled down to a moppy grey.

Milo moved past it to the gear closet. As the Old Foxes looked around and chatted about memories a decade old, Milo had suited up and stolen a racquet.

"Should we let him keep doing that?" Allison muttered to the rest.

"Leave him be, this is the most excited we've seen him since before the B R E A K U P call." Dan whispered.

"You know he can spell faster than us, right?"

Aaron whispered back.

"And you know you're a bad whisperer, right?"

Matt countered.

"Cousins!" Anything Aaron was about to say was cut off by Nicky's loud arrival. He raced towards Aaron and Andrew, bringing them into tight squeezes despite the twos wriggling.

Neil smiled because it'd been three years since Andrew had told Nicky he could hug him without asking. Andrew sometimes snapped that he was sick of it, but Andrew had also told Neil years ago that he didn't do regret.

Nicky let out a sharp gasp from his position in hugging Neil. He all but shoved the man into Matt before springing himself onto Milo. "My baby nephew! You've gotten so big! Last time I saw you you were definitely a head shorter! What are they feeding you? Is it Kevin's diet?"

Milo smiled and hugged Nicky as hard as he could despite the pads. "A mix of junk food and Kevin's dietary plan I only follow when I'm bored."

Kevin sent him a glare for that but went back to finding proper gear without a word.

"How did any of you get inside?" Wymack wondered gruffly. Standing in the flesh, was their beloved coach who hadn't seemed to age a day in their eyes. The only thing new was the baby attached to his chest.

Everyone flooded his space in an instant, cooing and awing at the little infant with orange bows in her curly hair. It was a shame Kevin had to be the one to tell them Wymack and Abby were having a baby. He was too excited to remember they wanted to surprise everyone. Sarah was adopted by them as soon as she'd been born, the baby of a previous Fox who didn't want children. None of them knew her from anything other than the tabloids that printed her face everywhere on Exy news the week after her discharge from the hospital. She dropped out of Palmetto soon after and was in the wind before Wymack and Abby could say goodbye.

"Okay you animals, get your diseased faces out of my baby's face. And Kevin, get your face out that closet and hug me dammit."

Kevin paused from where he was pulling a pair of gloves out of the gear closet to sheepishly shuffle over to his father.

"Where's Abby?" Kevin asked as he smiled at

Sarah's squinty face.

"Napping. She wanted to come by but I told her we'd be here all day and she can stop by when she's had at least an hour of sleep." Wymack said.

He tossed the court keys at Neil who used them to unlock all of the doors inside.

Before anyone finished dressing, Jeremy Knox and Jean Moreau knocked on the locker room doors. This reunion was special, a chance for Jean to see Renee, and Jeremy to see Kevin in an act of support in these dire times.

Having so many professional exy stars in one room felt charged in a way. Kevin seemed ready to cream his pants, or so Andrew commented.

Jeremy looked good in orange and Jean looked like he'd rather do the scrimmage naked. But Neil only had eyes for Andrew whose old uniform stretched on him like a wet dream.

"Can you even play like that?" Aaron smirked, silently laughing at Andrew's predicament. Aaron hadn't been on his college grind in so long, he'd lost muscle mass but gained a healthy weight that his uniform fit almost perfectly.

Andrew silently knocked Aaron on the shoulder with his racquet and clicked his tongue at the weight of it. Neil understood the feeling. Their old racquets were like feathers, Neil wasn't sure he could play with something so lightweight.

Milo was setting up cones and baskets of exy balls with cheerfulness. He was running around the court with a giddiness that rubbed off onto everyone else.

"Don't forget to stretch," Kevin reminded him.

Milo turned and threw his body into a bridge position before resting into a handstand.

"Show off." Kevin grumbled as Jeremy laughed.

Milo properly stretched afterward, first to finish as he picked up the basket of exy balls.

"I wanna show you something. Miss Renee, may you take the goal for me?" Milo asked.

“My pleasure,” Renee said with a smile. She gave Andrew a friendly pat on the shoulder and took her place in the goal.

“We don’t have all day, Milo.” Kevin complained.

“Let him do what he wants, it’s his first game playing with us.” Dan said.

“My first game playing with you guys was actually in the morning of July 14th, 2006. It was my ‘Unbirthday’ as uncle Nicky put it and Matt knocked me onto my back.” Milo said as he got into position.

“You can’t count that as a real game.” Kevin said.

Milo smiled over his shoulder, one of the ones that made the Foxes refer to him as ‘Little Monster’ at times. “Shut up, Day, and watch this.”

He looked back at Renee who nodded at him and got into position. The stance was loose but almost as sturdy as it’d been all those years ago. Milo took up a ball and tossed it to her lightly, allowing her to hit it back far enough he’d have to chase it down the court. And Milo did. He didn’t want to see where it was headed. With bullet-like speed he took off, throwing himself from the wall, flying down the court before anyone could do much as turn their heads. The ball hit a far wall and came back. Milo jumped, snatching it from the air and landing on his left foot before propelling himself forward. He made light work of the cones and within 10 steps, scored on Renee. Neil didn’t know why but when Milo had taken the ball, he waited for a pass to someone who wasn’t there. It itched at his brain in a familiarity he couldn’t place.

Andrew narrowed his eyes before his mouth quirked into one of his amused expressions.

“What?” Neil wondered a little too loud.

“He’s just doing the most for no reason.” Kevin interrupted.

“He just mimicked Neil’s exact play his first time at a Fox match.” Andrew corrected.

Everyone turned to him in confusion.

Neil looked back, running it through his head but that game had been so long ago he didn’t remember.

Dan's eyes lit up, though. “He passed to me. Neil, you did that same jump thing your first game—back when Seth was taken off and you made your debut. You passed to me because someone was on your ass.”

“There’s no way. We can’t even remember it clearly. No one can say for sure.” Allison said.

Andrew tapped his temple. “I can. Memory like a steel trap, I never took my eyes off him. I’m the one who passed the ball to Neil.”

“It’s a fluke.” Kevin said.

Milo whistled at them to get everyone’s attention. “I’m not finished.” He tossed another ball to Renee. “I’ll call it for you this time; Seth Gordon 2006.” Milo changed the grip on his racquet, hands lower as his fingers gesture higher. He straightened his back and ran a few seconds after the ball flew, watching it with his eyes and racing at a slower yet more desperate pace. Once he’d caught it, he whipped it over his shoulder with such speed and strength, it nearly clipped Renee on the shoulder.

“There’s no way to guarantee that.” Kevin hissed.

Milo tossed another ball and cocked his head at Kevin. “Really? Let’s get more famous. Let’s see…” Milo tapped the button of his racquet against the floor and passed his stick to his left hand and the movement was so specific, Jean and the Foxes straightened in disbelief. “Kevin Day, 2007.” Milo called, once again changing his posture. The ball went and Milo moved, catching it and weaving around cones with such single mindedness it was breathtaking. Renee was serious now as she waited, eager to stop Milo but incapable of accomplishing it. The ball whistled past her ear and the Foxes roared in incredulous excitement.

“Join me, will you, Mister Knox?” Milo asked.

Jeremy smirked and followed onto the court. He attempted to take up a backliner position but Milo moved him into the striker mark. He passed a ball to Jeremy and motioned for him to continue. The Foxes readied for whatever trick Milo held up his sleeve next. He moved his racquet back to his right and hunched his shoulders a bit in a way that left him open for injury. Jeremy moved to get past him and Milo hooked his foot around his and sent him stumbling. Milo then yanked his stick out of his unassuming hands with a simple twist, stealing the ball and sending it across the court to be slammed into the goal wall.

“Jean Moreau, 2005.” Milo said. Jeremy was on his ass behind him, clutching his wrist in surprise.

“That was a dirty move. I had so much faith in you.”

Milo gave him his racquet, using it to pull Jeremy to his feet. “You were expecting Jean-Yvves Moreau, 2009. But I like surprises.”

Jean frowned from his place by the Foxes. “That move is long dead. You can hurt someone with it.”

Milo held up Jeremy’s arm by the elbow, waving it at Jean. “He’s all in one piece. Now I’ve got something special for you all. Get on the court, Miss Renee, Drew, you may wait for my last demonstration off to the side.

As they all took their marks, not for a scrimmage but for shooting on the goal, Milo sauntered onto Renee’s place, tossing his racquet for hers. He spun it around and moved his hands before crouching and staring them down the court. Even with the helmet over his eyes, there was an intensity that boiled the cool air into something claustrophobic to the group. No one had to guess who Milo was mimicking now, but he still called out to them.

“Andrew Minyard, 2016.”

Neil got first dibs as he was the first to line up. He moved past Nicky and shot at the goal with a ferocity he saved for real matches. The deafening crack that boomed through the space as Milo’s racquet connected with the ball made everyone flinch in their spots. The ball sailed through the air like a jet before smacking into the other goal.

“There’s no way you did that!” Nicky screamed.

“That’s Andrew’s move. Do you know how many goalies have attempted to replicate that and succeeded?” Kevin shouted. “Eight! Only six have accomplished it in all exy history!”

“Seven, counting me.” Milo said, tossing the racquet over his shoulder. “But if I’m truly honest, I wouldn’t be able to do it again as accurately. Especially during an intense game. I’ve practiced your moves since I could hold a racquet and I've mastered your techniques in less years than you’ve all been playing. But Drew’s moves are special.”

Kevin was still staring at the ball across the court. “We need that tape. Get us that tape. You’ll need to show it to recruiters—”

“Slow down, Kevin.” Jeremy said.

“You’re turning red.” Jean said.

Kevin seemed close to fainting. When he’d had some water and Wymack promised to send him the security tape, they all got their chance to shoot on Milo who didn’t allow a single one through. After the showboating, they played a real scrimmage. Whoever won got to play with Milo next and even as Kevin lost thrice in a row, he never stopped his giddy chatter about the places Milo would go and the changes he’d bring to the sport.

[just-a-creep-babe]

Caught (NSFW)

(Creeps x Male! Reader)

Commissioned by @taboo-delusion tysm!! I really hope you enjoy 💖💞✨💖💓

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

BEN Drowned

When he first agrees to go for a snack run at the old abandoned gas station, he doesn’t expect it to be eventful

Despite being abandoned, the place is semi-regularly stocked by the proxies to use as a last-resort shelter and supply hoard in case anyone needs it

So it’s not like the building is used to seeing a lot of traffic, much less any kind of excitement

Which is why he never, ever in his undead life would have expected to walk in on what he does

Just barely half-concealed near the back of the store, BEN does a full-on double-take as he sees the newest member of the mansion naked, his legs spread and his cock hard and twitching as he pumps a gun in and out of his ass

It completely stuns BEN in place

He can't tear his eyes away from the shiny barrel rhythmically pounding in and out of the new guy's slick hole

With a low, whiny moan, he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back in sheer bliss, and it's like that's just enough to snap BEN out of it

He ducks behind a nearby shelf, the ghost of his heart pounding in his chest, and he prays he didn’t get noticed

When the faint moaning doesn’t subside, he realizes he’s probably in the clear

BEN counts down from ten to catch his breath, and then, with the adrenaline coursing through his system, he sneaks another peek

It’s filthy, perverted—a complete lack of respect and total breach of trust—but how could he not?

Acting on instinct, he whips out his phone, aims it at the pornographic scene unfolding just inches away from him, and hits record

Bloody Painter

It isn’t a particularly eventful night for Helen at first

Alone in the studio, inspiration just isn’t coming to him, and he finds himself zoning out in front of an empty canvas, hoping to get blessed with the miracle of motivation

When his phone buzzes, he initially doesn’t think much of it

It’s only when he opens it to a particularly interesting video that his lackluster night suddenly takes a turn

In a shoddy, poorly-lit building, the video cuts straight to the point with a guy squirming and whimpering, fully naked on the ground

He's fisting at his dick, whining under his breath, and at the same time, he's bouncing his ass against something dark and metallic

Squinting, Helen zooms in to confirm his suspicion; he’s fucking himself on a gun

If he wasn't so entranced by the sight, Helen might’ve wondered why the fuck this was sent to him

But his mind is suddenly blank, and the one thought he has left is who the fuck is that guy?

He racks his brain trying to think of anyone who might fit the description

And, suddenly, he realizes—that’s the new guy

The faintest hints of a smile ghost over the artist’s lips

He finishes watching the video, picks up a paintbrush, and brings it to the canvas

He gets the feeling that his next piece is going to be very inspired~

CandyPop

Candy generally doesn’t get too involved in whatever happens at the mansion

He gets along decently with some creeps, but he either doesn’t care about the others, or he’s grown to fully hate them over the years

Despite that, however, he adores meddling in other people's business

So when word starts spreading that the newest creep got caught and filmed jerking off with a gun, Candy just knows things are about to get exciting~

He asks around for a copy of the video, and right from the first watch, he's fascinated by the newest member

He can’t help but think what a good pet this creep would be to have around

Like, he seems kind of masochistic, a possible exhibitionist, and he likes receiving?

Sounds like way too much fun~

He watches the video an unhealthy amount of times, and although he isn’t welcomed at the mansion, he makes it a point to somehow meet this guy

The video gives Candy way too many ideas—which, for a demonic clown, is most certainly not a good thing

Unknowingly, it seems like the new guy's sexual habits are already garnering attention from some pretty dangerous entities

Whoopsies!

Clockwork

Clockwork regularly goes to that gas station

She likes the quiet solitude it offers, not to mention the weirdly cozy vibes and decent array of snack foods

So, naturally, when Toby suggests the snack run, Nat is one of the first to agree to join

She beelines it to her favorite spot in the building, the employee break room near the back, and as she approaches, she actually hears the new guy before seeing him

Is that… moaning?

Curiosity getting the better of her, she follows the sound

And right as she's about to stumble in on the big reveal, she's grabbed and yanked behind one of the nearby shelves

Instincts kicking in, she nearly punches BEN right in the face, but something stops her before she does

That look on his face

She pauses, notices the phone in his hand, and, combined with the sounds she's hearing, everything makes sense

Her face immediately flushes

Before she can stop herself, her eyes shift to the spot at the back corner, and, surely enough, she sees what’s happening

The new guy throws his head back, his body convulsing as he shudders and his cock twitches and throbs

He pumps the gun in and out faster, harder, like he’s approaching his climax

Before she can see anything more, before she violates his privacy any further, Nat spins on her heels and gets the hell out of there, too flustered to say or even do anything else

Dark Link

Like Candy, Dark doesn’t typically keep up with whatever the hell kind of nonsense happens at the mansion

So he only discovers the video when he's snooping through BEN’s files in an attempt to get the upper hand in their rivalry

As soon as he sees that video file, he knows he's in for a treat~

The guy, who he assumes must be a new member, isn’t too bad on the eyes to begin with

And when the video pans down to get a better view of just what he's using to jerk himself off, Dark needs to know more about him

He rummages through a few more files to find out more information on him, just for the fun of it

He honestly doesn't expect to do anything with the intel, but the deeper he looks into it, the more he wants to meet him

The more he wants to torment him

Technically, however, being on neutral terms with Slender means that he isn't allowed to do such things to members of the safehouse

So Dark realizes that he, unfortunately, will just have to wait for him to step out of the mansion's boundaries before trying anything a bit more... risky

If they do end up meeting, he plans on using the... intimate knowledge he has of him to embarrass him

And if they don’t meet anytime soon, he’ll simply have to content himself with replaying that video over and over and over again~

Eyeless Jack

Being more of an introvert, Jack doesn’t join the outing at the abandoned station

But as soon as everyone comes back, he can tell something is a bit… off

After cautiously asking around to find out what happened, he finally gets BEN to show him the video

And, let’s just say, Jack’s never been happier to have a mask concealing his face

He only lasts a few seconds in before telling BEN to turn that thing off

From an outside perspective, it probably looks like he disapproves of the creeps violating the newest member’s privacy

Which, to be fair, he does

But, more than that, he’s just really flustered about the whole thing

He doesn’t know how he’ll manage to face the new guy again

The next time they meet, Jack tries to act cool and natural, but he completely fumbles the bag and gets visibly flustered

If anything might tip the new guy off that something funky's going on, it's probably the way Jack acts around him from that point on

Homicidal Liu

Since Liu rarely uses the shelter of the mansion, it also takes him a while to find out about the incident

By the time he discovers it, chances are, the new guy knows he got busted, so most creeps are already in on his dirty little secret

It’s therefore a huge relief when the new guy initially meets Liu, and Liu doesn't seem to know about it

Their first meeting goes well, but, unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for Liu to find out about the video anyway

The difference between meeting the newbie normally and seeing how depraved he is when he's turned on is shocking

Next time he runs into him, it's almost hard not to gawk

Poor Liu gets too flustered trying to talk to him after seeing that side of him, so he inevitably ends up retreating into himself

Which gives just enough space for Sully to show face

And whew boy is Sully ever ruthless with the intel he has

They probably give the new guy whiplash if he wasn't previously warned about Liu's alter

As much as Liu was sweet and accommodating, Sully, on the other hand, takes pleasure in embarrassing the new guy until he’s squirming

He borderline starts degrading and dirty-mouthing him right then and there

And, unfortunately for the newbie, he very quickly becomes Sully’s new favorite plaything~

Hoodie

Also part of the gang going for the snack run, Hoodie has a sneaking suspicion it's going to be an eventful outing

Not necessarily because of anything, mind you—it's just a sort of premonition, if you will

And yet, even despite his intuition, it still catches him off guard when he hears that faint moaning coming from the back of the store

The sound leads him to BEN and Nat acting strange behind a shelf hidden off to the side

They don't notice him, so he stays just out of their line of sight as he peeks around the corner to the source of the quiet, shuddering breaths

And he absolutely can't contain that shit-eating grin on his face as he finds the newest member of the mansion unknowingly responsible for all of the agitation in the store

Fisting his cock, he quietly mewls and whimpers as he grinds his ass down against something long and hard that looks kind of familiar

Leaning in as much as he can without jeopardizing his hiding spot, Hoodie finally realizes what he's masturbating with

He’s about to pull out his phone, when Nat briskly turns and leaves

Right at the last second, he ducks out of sight, and when the coast is clear, he starts his own recording of the action

He doesn't know if he'll use it for blackmail, or just for his own... personal fun, but he figures it'll be useful to have, either way~

Jane the Killer

She originally hears the gossip about the new guy being an exhibitionist when she's out of town

When she returns to the mansion, Nat explains what happened, and Jane just doesn’t know how to react

He got caught doing what where??

She meets the newbie not too long after, and all she can think about while trying to make casual chit-chat is that she knows

She, for obvious reasons, doesn’t want to let on that she knows, and thankfully, her mask does a great job of concealing her expression

He doesn’t seem to notice what she’s thinking, and their interaction goes over pretty smoothly, all things considered

She gets the impression that he isn't a bad person, despite whatever kind of sexual habits he has, so she actually doesn't mind him

She's really not the type to kink shame, anyways

And so, after their meeting, Jane makes it a point to shut people down when they try to make rude or disrespectful comments about him

She hates bullying, and she's not afraid to stand up against assholes, even if she's alone in doing so, so she grows to become really protective of the newbie

She absolutely doesn’t let anyone tease him or make any kind of jokes at his expense

Whether he knows it or not, the new guy owes her big time for defending him so much

Jason the Toymaker

He’s one of the first “outsiders” to originally hear about it

He actually even gets his hands on a copy of the video

At first, he plans on using it for blackmail material as well

But as he watches through it, he can’t help but think how the new guy would make such a good addition to his collection of dolls

He could probably make him so nice and malleable, so deliciously obedient oh so easily~

And, really, he thinks, the mansion is already so full of creeps as is—would they really miss one measly little member?

Something about it—something about how pure and innocent, yet filthy and depraved the new guy looks as he fucks himself with a weapon in an abandoned gas station—it just kind of riles Jason up

And, being a very obsessive demon, it isn’t long before he realizes how badly he'd love to abduct the new guy and claim him

He thinks about all of the weapons he could use on him, all of the places he could test and push his limits to

It gives him way too many ideas

He makes it his goal to add him to his collection of dolls, and he’ll wait as long as it takes to get what he wants

Jeff the Killer

Jeff is minding his own business, for once, at the gas station during the snack run when he gets a text from BEN telling him to come to the back of the store

When he hears the faint moans and whimpers, he thinks BEN is playing some kind of prank

But boy is he ever wrong

He walks in on BEN sneakily filming the new guy, who’s bouncing up and down on a gun and panting like a depraved whore while he does so

Like most of the others, it takes him a second to process what he’s seeing

There’s no way he just walked in on that

He's too surprised to pull himself away at first, and when he snaps out of it, he realizes he's enjoying it too much to leave

He watches the whole show, even as the new guy starts moaning louder, even until his body starts shaking and his cock starts tensing and twitching as he approaches his peak

He can’t look away as the newbie throws his head back, plunges the gun as deep as it’ll go inside him, then cums all over himself in a sticky white mess

As he starts coming down from his high, both Jeff and BEN quickly sneak away to avoid being seen

And although Jeff doesn’t usually like newbies, he figures he might make an exception for this guy

Unfortunately for the new guy, however, Jeff's love language is bullying

And what he saw at that gas station is just perfect bullying material

And he doesn't plan on going easy on him just because he's new

Kate the Chaser

Since she’s antisocial, she’s hardly ever at the mansion, even despite being a proxy

She mostly just hangs around abandoned buildings, caves, half-decrepit huts in the woods—that kind of thing; and she feels very protective of those places

So when she senses a group of people wandering through what she’d consider her abandoned gas station, she makes sure to keep a close watch on everyone

She doesn’t actively see what happens with the new guy, but she definitely hears about it when everyone’s leaving the place

By overhearing bits of conversations, she's able to piece together what happened, and she develops a certain curiosity about the new guy

Kate teeters between states of consciousness, where, most of the time, she’s almost basically feral

But every now and then, remnants of her old humanity peek through

And hearing about this new guy somehow brings bits of her old self out, which piques her interest

It’s like a mix of curiosity and sexual fascination that has her sticking around to watch the new guy stumble his way back to the mansion

And even though she’d likely never confront him on her own, she secretly hopes that she’ll stumble in on him doing something like that again

Alas, until that day comes, maybe she’ll content herself with merely stalking him for now

Masky

Even though he and Hoodie are almost always together, he doesn’t join the group at the gas station

He needs to rest and recover, so he hangs back, but he immediately knows he missed out on something big when Hoodie comes back

And when Hoodie shows him the video, Masky's furious he missed out on it

Honestly, he gains some respect for the newbie for being so ballsy to pull something off like that

Unlike a lot of others, it doesn’t really affect the way he interacts with him afterward

He doesn’t get flustered, doesn’t tease or bully the guy about it, he doesn’t even mention it because, in Masky's opinion, it’s not that big of a deal

Really, all it does is make him more interested in seeing what other tricks the new guy has up his sleeve

He wouldn’t mind personally finding out about them~

Other than that, if he sees other creeps being excessive about their commentary towards the newbie, he’ll also shut them down alongside Jane

He figures it must suck for the poor guy, so he tries to minimize the damage however he can

Jane and Masky honestly kind of become the new guy’s lifeline after that incident

Nurse Ann

She also only hears about it much, much later since she usually stays off the grid

She’s masochistic, sadistic, and hypersexual, so she definitely gets having more… deviant sexual urges

Not to mention, with the sheer amount of strange people in that house, it really isn’t surprising that at least one of them would pull that kind of stunt

She doesn’t think too much of it as she goes about her work, but every now and then, she’s suddenly reminded of it out of nowhere

And she can’t help but think how fun it would be to use someone like that in her experiments~

So she keeps an eye out, and, similarly to Kate, she also hopes to have a random run-in with the new recruit

Honestly, she doesn’t even know who the new creep is or what he looks like—even if she did run into him—because they all look the same to her

But she knows that if she did get the chance to run into him, she also wouldn’t go easy on him

Honestly, Nurse Ann is definitely one of the more dangerous creeps, so garnering her attention is almost never a good thing

The new guy's unknowingly put himself in a lot of danger by attracting so many outsiders' attention

Offenderman

Oh, he absolutely adores hearing about this new creep~

He’s not technically banned from the mansion, but he’s on thin fucking ice, so he knows to be careful when he visits to meet him

Preying on people’s sexual urges is what he does best—it makes it all the easier to mold his victims into perfectly obedient little slaves~

So this new guy has him salivating at the thought of kidnapping him

Try as he might to be subtle about his intentions to whisk him away, Slender is, for obvious reasons, fully aware of what he’s trying to do

So new security measures are reinstated at the house, and the new guy is placed under extra protection

Which might be confusing to the new guy, since he doesn’t exactly know why he’s being so carefully protected

Why would anyone even care about a random newbie like him?

Even if he tries to ask Slender what the reasoning behind all the fuss is, Slender won't tell him because just knowing what Offender does can be risky

To counter the new safety precautions, Offender might try to bribe and manipulate creeps from the inside

And who knows; maybe one day, Offender will finally slip through Slender’s cracks and snatch up his prize~

Ticci Toby

Oh god oh god oh fuck

Initially the first one to suggest going for a snack run, he somehow blames himself for stumbling in on the new guy doing the dirty

He’s the first one to discover the scene, even before BEN walks in on it

And as soon as he sees it, as soon as he sees the new guy naked with his legs spread, squirming and whining with the barrel deep inside of him, Toby’s face goes red

He’s so close he can practically hear the slick sounds as he humps the weapon like a depraved little puppy

He’s frozen for a few seconds, too stunned to react, but once he comes to his senses, he immediately gets the hell out of dodge

But he doesn’t even make it all that far before he realizes—shit

There’s at least, like, five other creeps in here that might stumble in on him

He’s paralyzed in place as his mind races to figure out how to get everyone out without raising suspicion

But before he can think of a plan, BEN stumbles in on it and it’s all over

Not knowing what else to do, Toby practically makes a run for it because the secondhand embarrassment is too real

He comes face-to-face with Cody as he’s leaving, and when Cody asks what’s wrong, Toby blurts everything out before thinking twice

Needless to say, he’s insanely embarrassed about the whole thing, even though he’s not even the one who got caught

Poor guy can’t look the newbie in the eyes for a good few months after that incident

X-Virus

When Toby mentions a hideout off the side of an old highway, of course Cody wants to check it out

He thought it would be a nice, chill way to spend his evening, so you can just imagine his confusion when he runs into Toby, who looks like he just saw a ghost and is on the verge of crapping himself about it

Before he can even open his mouth to ask, Toby blurts everything out, and Cody is thoroughly stunned

The new guy is doing what? Here? Right now??

He can see that Toby is visibly shaken, so he does his best to calm him down

But the whole time he’s talking Toby down, all he can think about is how he wants this damn conversation to end so that he can go off and have a quick peek of his own

Like—it’s not his fault the new guy’s cute

And, surely, one quick little peek wouldn’t do anyone any harm, right?

Once Toby bails, Cody doesn’t think twice before going to the back of the store

A few creeps are huddled behind a shelf, watching the scene intently, and Cody gets his own spot to watch the show

He was already interested in the newbie before this, but now?

Oh, now he definitely wants more

Zalgo

The fact that he’s essentially the lord of the underworld, it’s nothing short of a miracle that news reaches him about a new sexually deviant creep

And at first, when the news does reach him, he honestly doesn’t care too much about it

Like, he’s basically the lord of sin—it takes a lot to impress him, even regarding sexual tendencies

It’s only one day, when nothing seems to be exciting him in the underworld, that he finally decides to investigate the new guy

What he discovers is actually fairly interesting, especially when he notices that other creeps and demons have developed an interest in him too

It means that the newbie might actually be more valuable than Zalgo initially realized

He gathers more intel on him, sending a few demons here and there to stalk him, all while remaining under Slender’s radar

And it, admittedly, is a long shot, but there’s a chance that this new guy might play a role in freeing the lord of the underworld from his imprisonment

He lays low for the most part, so it's not like the new guy is ever made aware of his presence, or even his existence as a whole

But the beginnings of a plan slowly yet surely start taking shape

Who knew such a small little mishap could cause such a stir?~